RUNNING AMOK IN LA CHAPELLE

May 7

In the morning the first thing everybody wanted to do was to go to the bank to get money.  Then we were going to go to the grocery store again before we went on an excursion.

Since Don and I had already been to the bank in the village, I knew right where to take everyone for money. We girls, Roger and Jerry hopped in the car and set off for La Chapelle la Reine.  First stop the bank. 

Pauline, Roger, and Susan jumped out of the car as I rolled to a stop across the street from the bank, and marched up to the ATM.  (Let the circus calliope begin.)  There was a big sign taped to the front of the ATM (probably saying it was out of money, it being a holiday weekend).  They couldn’t get the ATM to work, so they proceeded into the bank and approached the teller.  Pauline presented her card and asked in her best French, “Jay vood-rish cash”.  The teller looked puzzled.  What is a “chevoud riche” and why did this lady want her to hide it (cache) anyway????  In typical Pauline style mom thought perhaps if she said it a little louder and enunciated more clearly she could get it across.  “JAY VOOD-RISH CASH!!!”  Still a problem.  Pauline waved her card in the air, held her purse open and demanded, “CASH!”  At that point the light dawned on the teller and she responded, “ATTACK!!!”

Now Pauline backed off and tried to explain that, no, she was not trying to rob the bank, but the teller just kept saying, “ATTACK, ATTACK.”  The rest of the gang was trying to melt into the background and/or slip out the door as the verbal discussion of cash and attack continued.  Finally the teller took a piece of paper and made a sketch of a map with a big arrow pointing towards a rectangle with the word ATAC.  At this point Pauline gave up trying to communicate; the teller didn’t even know how to spell attack correctly after all.  And so she returned to the car without her cash avowing, quite vociferously that she really was not attacking the bank. The car full of Americans then proceeded along the road to the local grocery store, the ATAC. 

We all tumbled out of the car and assaulted the grocery/hardware store with gusto.  Roger found the ATM machine right away and stuck his card in to get money.  Oops, it would only give him $100.  He fretted and stewed about this while the rest of us scurried around the grocery store looking for a few things we felt we needed at the house, mugs and knives and cutting boards (none of which were available).   Pauline went to the machine and got $250 with no problem, so this threw Roger off even more and he continued to puzzle about it for the entire visit. 

With a crazy American in every aisle, muttering and snatching things off the shelves, the locals clustered in the front of the store watching the antics, making guarded comments amongst themselves, and staying out of the way.  We finally finished selecting our groceries, paid the bill, and returned home, much to the relief of ATAC and the locals.