I find most culture very boring, unless it’s Baroque. Most of it comes with a political message, since actors read the Guardian, if anything, and engage in and welcome all sorts of odd behaviour that used to be illegal but is now compulsory, like cross-dressing.
Of course, with the melting of barriers between what were two sexes, there is no such thing as cross-dressing. One gets up in the morning and puts on whatever one wants. My wife has an extensive wardrobe, most of it empty apart from cardboard boxes and invites me to put on whatever I desire for the day.
“Keep up with the times, dear,” she tells me.
She tries to keep me pretty much on the not very straight and narrow path.
To Avenue 31 for lunch. My wife – who drinks only the ‘juice’ from chicken soup and convinces herself she is vegetarian, or on a good day – wait for it – vegan, ordered a salad because there was no hot food with no animal parts in it. She stared at the lettuce until someone came and asked if everything was alright, to which she answered ‘no’ and made a speech with lots of gesticulations, rather like an industrial chicken that knows it’s time is up.
I was exhausted by the time I got home.
Which is why I didn’t help the IKEA delivery men. The scenario is the same every time. “Monsieur, we can’t find it!… you gave us the wrong address… we can’t get down the street because of road works, and so on.”
However, as I expected the ‘huge camion’ turned out to be a not very big white van and by waiting out their excuses for not making a delivery I had paid for, I won the day.
They were two young and burly chaps, at least they were dressed as men so I can only assume that’s what they were, and does it matter anymore anyway, huffed and puffed and carried very heavy items on their backs in postures that were straight out of a ‘how not to lift heavy objects’ manual’ and then stood around breathing heavily and waited for the 10 euros tip I had ready for them.
“Don’t tell the taxman,” I said as they lumbered off. Ten euros won’t even buy a new frock.
Views expressed in Monte-Carlo Diary do not necessarily reflect those of the publishers