Well faced with the possibility of tottering through the park with a microwave oven balanced on my noggin or booking a citiz car to take it to the repair place in Bègles I'll let you guess what I chose.
At 8 am the big car with the flat boot floor was free. I showered and came back to book it. It was taken. So I booked it from 1 till 5.
1:03 found me in the car heading off to the supermarket with Pat's list in my sweaty mitt. 2pm found me en route for Bègles with the oven/microwave combination securely in the boot, along with a bag containing the shelf, turntable, the bizarre steaming contraption, etc. etc. "You must take everything", the lady had said, "together with a written description of the problem and a copy of the receipt."
So I printed out a copy of the receipt, wrote on it in big letters "AUCUN SIGNE DE VIE" and popped it in the bag with the shelf, turntable, the bizarre steaming contraption, etc. etc.
I found the place with little difficulty and went in.
"I have a faulty oven/ microwave combination."
"Bring it in."
I staggered in with the oven, then sprinted back to get the back with the shelf, turntable, bizarre contraption for steaming, etc. etc. I plonked the bag on the table.
"C'est quoi, ça?"
"C'est toutes les accessoires. Samsung m'a dit de les apporter."
"Non non non non non non non non non non non."
"Non non non non non non non non non non non?" I replied, taken aback. The man smiled.
"On n'a pas besoin de tout ça.
He typed on a sheet N'allume pas. "Il faut compter une comblée de semaine."
Well every day you hear a new expression.
"Huit jours", he said, which was when I realised that I had been looking baffled.
"D'accord. Merci bien. Au revoir." and off I trotted to return the car and then go home on the bus 4, bag with shelf, turntable, bizarre steaming contraption, etc. etc. in hand.
The bus 4 was gravely perturbed by striking taxi-drivers, but we all made it home anyway.