Gustave invited me over to his place. Again.
Apparently the guy is a couch potato. "When I get home from work," he told me, "I like to sit on the couch and relax with either a good book or a good history program."
"So, what's the deal with you and Jolene?" I asked him. "Is she, like, your girlfriend or something?"
"Jo and I, we grew up together. Our parents were great friends. We went to the same schools, had the same group of friends, and then when we grew up, we decided to become roommates. She married a Parisian, a garcon called Montaque, and when that didn't work out she returned here and bought the cafe.
"Jo and I, we grew up together. Our parents were great friends. We went to the same schools, had the same group of friends, and then when we grew up, we decided to become roommates. She married a Parisian, a garcon called Montaque, and when that didn't work out she returned here and bought the cafe.
"We moved in here as soon as the marriage was dissolved. We never actually dated -- is that what you Americans call that? -- but have remained great friends."
"That explains it! Her marriage didn't work out so she's trying to make YOU miserable, too. Gustave, I have a novel idea -- can't you just move out?"
"I'm not sure I can," he told me.
"Why?"
"I'm clumsy, I'll forget my head if it weren't attached --"
"Gustave, I'm sure you would make it on your own if you tried. Because, really, you're abiding by her rules instead of your own."
"I have tried. If you hadn't gone in the kitchen the other day the whole house would have burned!"
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