On a cold morning there are no end of offers to 'warm me up' ranging from the randy single fishmonger's over enthusiastic 'bises'(kisses moving from cheek, down towards the neck, if he gets half a chance!), to the married ex-army baker's dirty jokes, in some vain attempt to shock me into submission. Apparently every new girl who starts the markets gets this treatment for a while, but in my case apparently there seems to be some added challenge with constant "Hallo's" shouted across the market and competition amongst the baker, fruit & veg man and roast chicken seller to see which one can make the amorous fishmonger jealous. All this is in the best lighthearted humor, and keeps us all laughing in a not very glamourous part of rural France. Hey I'm not complaining, it gets me and my stand noticed and I have had a few good sales as a result of some really corney comments about 'les petites anglaises'. Sinking almost to their level I did point out to the roast chicken seller the other day, the English significance of the word 'cock' as he was contemplating getting a plastic cockerel to put on his stall to go with the bleating sheep on the cheese seller's stand, and the pig on the sausage stall. So of course we had the whole morning filled with a barrage of 'coq' innuendos which went completely over the heads of the biddies buying their veg, but had the rest of us in stitches!
All this to sell a few fairy cakes, but hey - that's the way it works around here, and everyone comes to me for their sugar fix now, not to the boulangerie!
Ooooh errrrr missus! You'll have them all laughing like Sid James by the end of the year. Perfect your Kenneth Williams snort now!
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