I came back from a rainy walk around the nearby villages one day and bumped into my now good friend Lucien- a French man of a distinguished age who told me one day that he was going to chainsaw some lumber later that afternoon and another day that he was painting a house. yup.
Him, his German friend and the Australians from the Chateau had just finished a heart stopping, grueling match of tennis and were about to celebrate over a bottle of champagne. I got pulled into the mix and we were soon sitting around a table which about halfway into the bottle of champagne turned into Lucien and his friend telling a myriad of different tales- the ones where you just wait for the ridiculous twist at the end. Somehow we decided that this was going to be a French lesson so my job became translating the stories to English or retelling them again in French. Unfortunately my translations would always fall short at the endings leading to mass confusion, hilarity, or just blank stares and desperate explanations. 😀
Here’s one of my favorites:
There were two brothers. When one brother got something, the other brother had to have it as well. For example, they both had homes and each had a blond wife. One day one of the brothers decided he was going to buy a horse so of course the other brother decided he would too. So two horses were bought. As they were bringing them home they started discussing how they would tell them apart. One brother suggested cutting off an ear. No no the other brother said – we should cut off one of the horse’s tails. After much thinking one of the brothers said- how about you take the white one and I’ll take the black one.
hardy har har! groan.
I won’t recount the others because they were just as bad or worse than then one above, like the one about a gorilla at a zoo.
Lucien and I at the village market.