Work???

Oh my goodness. I honestly feel like I’m going to die… or cry… or something dramatic. All I am thinking is, “Please, God, don’t let the phone ring!”

Needless to say, I’m here. I’m sitting behind a curved mahogany desk with a little sign on top reading “receptionist,” painfully watching the security cameras and phones, hoping desperately that nothing moves. My heart drops each time the automatic door opens for a passerby walking too near and the anxiety is only heightened by the rapid, audible “tic tic tic” of the clock by my ear. Time can’t pass quickly enough.

Shit. Here comes a guest now…

Ok, that wasn’t terrible. Wait – another!

…

It seems mostly people are understanding of my situation. “Sorry,” I’ll say, “I’m learning French…” and the men all respond, “Formidable!” while the women just smile and nod, “Ok…”

Now, of course, the question is how did I find myself in this situation in the first place? Well, it all started this morning…


Tequila and I woke up early, joining Sarah and Carol in waving “au revoir” to Patty, Lexie & Amanda. I was sad to see them go but alas, that is the way of Chez Michel.

To keep busy, I made my way to the market where I found myself laughing out loud, surrounded by the faded memories of guests long gone; my parents picking out pottery, Francis and I with hats and jewelry, Patricia with her sweet son, Olivier. Unfortunately, my high spirits came crashing down when I made my way to the bank. Not working has not helped much in that department… and to make matters worse, I walked outside only to find a 35€ ticket waiting for me on my scooter.

But, as I’d later recount to Sarah, Jommy & Carol over a breakfast of fresh croissants, the worst was yet to come. I stopped in at the Hotel Sube to see a friend of Sarah’s and suddenly – voila – I had a job. As a receptionist. And I don’t speak French.

A job? I liked doing nothing! I loved getting got know my family, reading books I’ve always wanted to pursue, writing stories I’ve always dreamed of writing! But life requires money and I am one who needs to work. So, despite the fact that I can hardly struggle through a conversation in French in person – forget on the phone, I find myself here, answering phones, working the bar, showing rooms, yielding questions, working at L’Hotel Sube.

Save me?

One hour left…