Well, it was only a question of time – a physical scrap has ensued with one of my in laws. I’ll let you guess which one by the tone of this following conversation –
(I do apologise if you’re only just logging on to this blog, as this one is a bit of a doozy – bear on, and read back, if you need context….)
IN LAW – “Looby, so pretty today, come here, one moment, please cheat the till, beautiful, you are shining…”
ME – “No, In Law, I won’t cheat the till, apart from anything because that till is so old, you can’t cheat the till”
IN LAW – “Yes, I know, but please cheat it… This is your colour! So nice, Angelo is so lovely boy…”
ME – “You’re not listening to me – you never do – I can’t cheat the till, apart from the fact I don’t want to and it’s not right, you won’t pay for a new till to cheat, that till must be twenty five years old…”
IN LAW – (Smiling ridiculously) “I know, I know, Just do it, for me, for your family…”
ME – (Exploding) “YOU ARE NOT LISTENING. THE TILL CAN’T BE CHEATED BECAUSE YOU WON’T PAY FOR ONE TO BE CHEATED ON. IN FACT YOU WON’T PAY FOR ANYTHING THAT COULD HELP!”
IN LAW – “WHY YOU SHOUT AT ME? WHY EVERYONE HATES ME? (In Greek)- FUCK YOU TO GOD, FUCK ALL YOU WHORES, YOU CAME AND ATE MY LIFE!”
ME – “WELL I HAD BALLS BEFORE I MET YOU. YOU ATE MY BALLS. AND THE BALLS OF YOUR SONS!”
At which point IN LAW threw a box of lettuce at me. I responded with a box of cucumbers.
(It was early in the morning, nothing had been set up yet.)
So, another good day in the office.
Fear not, this is actually perfectly normal. Maria (yes I confess it was her, could you tell?) and I made up my the afternoon, by which time the drama had turned to plates in the kitchen (nothing to do with me).
Who ever said Greek Island life was simple?