Sunday, May 1, 2016

Something May Be Rotten in the State of Denmark, But Something is Definitely Fishy in the Country of France

You may remember how our spy Hick rushed off to France last Sunday just as soon as The Pony was finished getting his special award (nowhere near a leg lamp) and Val had given up on eating petrified carrots and zucchini from her catered lunch plate.

The original plan was for Hick to return on Wednesday, after 10 days of dismantling and packing a machine bound for his workplace. Hick was concerned about his time there. That's unusual for Hick. He never met a stranger, and he never heard of a place he didn't want to go. You may recall that Hick has traveled to such exotic locales as Wales, Germany, Brazil, and New Jersey. Oh, and he also spent six months or so working in Saudi Arabia back before I met him, as a mechanic, not for his present employer. So his level of discomfort surprised me.

Hick seemed to be clinging to the hope that Heinz, his German associate from Switzerland, would get him through. In fact, once he got his phone going, he mentioned in every communication something about Heinz. How he loaned him his phone. Went to dinner with him. Would be driving him the hour to the airport for his return trip.

Then Hick's Heinz obsession grew dark. Heinz was planning on going back to Switzerland on Saturday. No. Heinz was going back to Switzerland Friday night. Hick supposed he could find something to do all weekend. I told him that he was in a hotel in a tourist town. Not in solitary confinement in a maximum security prison. I was sure he could find someone at the hotel to direct him to food and entertainment. Then he was worried about getting to the airport. "There's a train that goes there. I guess I'll have to take that."

All at once, Hick sends a text Friday that he's leaving France! "I got a flight for Saturday morning be Home around 8:00 pm Heinz is driving me nuts really miss home and you." He'll go back to Germany between the time The Pony graduates and we take him to the University of Oklahoma for an incoming freshmen camp in June.

WHAT? As you might imagine, I sent Hick a text back. "Okay. Five days off my not-you vacation."

Hick went on to explain at 10:31 a.m. my time that he was at a hotel right next to the airport, and was going to Pizza Hut and to take pictures of the airport. What all tourists do in France, I suppose.

Anyhoo...once he landed in Charlotte, he called and said that Heinz was uncomfortable speaking French, and was bent out of shape about the move (he's a salesman, really, and not a factory guy like Hick) and said he could ship that machine back much easier from Germany than from France. So they had most of it trucked to their plant in Germany, to await Hick's return.

Spies fly by the seat of their pants, it seems.

12 comments:

  1. I'd love to kill time in France with Hick. We'd have a blast.

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    1. Yes. And you would know how to navigate foreign lands so that Hick didn't feel like a prisoner in solitary.

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  2. You know you miss him! Maybe he will have a nice gift from France for you ....

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    1. Nice try on that gift thing. He must be shipping it through Germany, because I have seen nary a trinket.

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  3. It sounds like my birthday "gift" several summers ago. My husband and a friend were going to bike the whole Katy Trail. They took the train with their bikes to Sedalia (I think that's at one end of the trail) and only got to Rocheport before they called and wanted me to pick them up. They were supposed to be gone a week, and only lasted two days.

    And the worst part? They called from Rocheport ON my birthday...

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    1. WHAT? And they didn't even have the common decency to gift you with a $3.00 change purse and two boxes of Sno-Caps?

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  4. The two bumbling buddies were sent to France to ship it home, but they are shipping it from to and from Germany? Val, this sounds like a real spy story. Will this be continued?

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    1. There's always the trip to Germany for the sequel...

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  5. Hmmm. What an adventure! Going to Pizza Hut in Paris to take photos of the airport, sounds fishy to me.

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    1. Yeah. We have a Pizza Hut just down the road. And a little airport on the other side of town.

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  6. I am more and more impressed with the international spy ring you seem to have uncovered. Sometimes I even wish Hick would blog so we could get the story straight from the horse's . . . mouth. (heh-heh)

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    1. Hold your horses, pard! We don't want Hick blogging! Then he could refute the claims of one Val (Honest Babe) Thevictorian!

      At least you've got the...part right about where Hick's stories would come from.

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