Eddie had slept well in the bed provided. He had made a promising start but there was much more labour waiting for him as he dragged on his new boots then gathered his tools for the day's work ahead. After a light breakfast Roxanne presented the 'tasks for the day' list which Eddie stuffed in his jeans, leaving the kitchen, a little concerned at the matter of fact attitude of his employer: he had become the 'hired help', a common worker, someone to be ordered around, to be treated like any other. This did not feel at all pleasant.
To compound his doubts, arriving during the afternoon, was Candy, the last person he expected 450 kms north of Vallebregues. What could be the reason for this unexpected visit? Throughout the remainder of the day excuses were concocted to visit the house on the pretext of 'any further instructions, maam?' All that Eddie found was his latest tormentors huddled, chuckling over another bottle of Pinot Noir. By 7.30pm the tools had been cleaned, the boots were off, Eddie trudged back to the house for 'dinner'. Unfortunately he was met by the two ladies leaving for town, dressed to kill, barely acknowledging transparent Eddie.Returning to his rig firing up the chip pan he was faced with only Ollie for company. Sure enough he was awoken at 3 in the morning by the giddy, noisy homecoming of the treacherous hosts.
Eddie packed up the following morning finding it impossible to stay or request any explanation: he was heading south at 8.30am.He had been dealt a proppa shit butty.
Ikea hotdog.
Just up the road from Nuits Saint Georges is Dijon, the home of mustard but also a branch of IKEA. This dish reminded mi so much of wot Eddie had just been dealt. By the time that you have finished flowing through the yellow tracked river caves then paid for your wonderfully designed Scandinavian furniture just beyond the cash desks, the sign for 'fast food' approaches.
On offer are the Swedish version of chicken nuggets and hotdogs plus a drinks of soda foa 50cents. The place is just bustin' wiv students arfta 12.30, each one carryin' at least too oa free of these delights. The ketchup, mustard, mayo are awl free. they don't arf dollop it awl ova. They continually return foa endless free drinks until they is bustin wiv 'E' numbers.
The 'dog' contains everfing that no one else would eat but it's slippery, elongated, lozenge shape wrapped in a very nasty bread roll fits perfectly into the mouth of any hungry, disernin' student. It could be a genuine shit butty: but after a shed full of ale from the night befoa it hits the spot; tis the ideal hangova cure. Believe me!!!
