THE PERPIGNAN INCIDENT
Way back in my misspent youth,
I found myself in Perpignan
Things had not been going
particularly well.
I'd been working on the vendage
(grape-picking),
a ghastly occupation
at which I did not shine,
and I'd been sacked
for making a dog yapping sign
with my hand
behind the back
of the loathsome boss-brute of a woman
who screamed orders at us
all day long,
(unfortunately I was
unaware her son was among those
who witnessed my amusing diversion,
he did not see the funny side, at all)
still I had a few francs in my pocket,
and here I was
in a sunny South France town.
Hunger called
I repaired to a small grocery type store where
I asked the grocer to cut me a miniscule slice
of cheese,
he seemed displeased
but did it,
I then asked for an equally miniscule
cut of ham
at this
he seemed really pissed off
started muttering and snorting,
I was quite put about,
was I not a customer equal
to any other?
I was determined to respond.
I thought it best however
to make my comment
in a subtle disguised way,
I would use a Spanish word
'Cabron' I hissed.
Now this is a really heavy insult
in the Castilian tongue,
literally 'big goat' but
in meaning more like
you 'f****** b******'.
I was just confident
he wouldn't understand my insult
I could not have been more wrong.
French is not my strongest suit
but he made it very clear
he did know what 'cabron' meant
not only that
he combined his comprehension
with an energetic physical response
He leapt on me
the bastard,
there we were
in the shop
rolling around
wrestling between
the narrow aisles.
I was caught unprepared
but fortunately
he was a weak old runt
and I sort of held my own
until
his wife and daughter
pulled him off.
With much hullabaloo
I was shoved out the store
and my haversack
thrown after me.
I have a memory
that later
in the afternoon
shop shut down period
as I waited for a coach
to Barcelona
I slipped an
envelope of dried dog's turd
through the offending grocery's
letterbox,
perhaps I did
perhaps I didn't
All I know is
I've never been back to Perpignan
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