The Interview

So you can imagine my surprise, when sitting in a tiny little pub called Le Cinq ("The Five") in Rambouillet, watching the very first and opening match of the 2010 World Cup Football between South Africa and Mexico, when a little grey-haired man approached me and asked if I'd be willing to be interviewed on the radio.

He had noticed the South African flag draped over my shoulders, and though it may be appropriate to inteview a saffa, to get in on the WC hype... I obliged.
But regretted it about 2 minutes later.

As the evening progressed, and I watched them setup their gear - the butterflies in my tummy started to get busier and busier. Thinking that I can still get out of this situation by pretending to have a dinner date in Paris, or by having recieved a frantic call that demanded my urgent attention, the same grey-haired chap came up to me asking me to lend him the SA flag to drape over a statue (Nestor - the butler from the TinTin cartoons, nonetheless!!!).  I oblige again.
But regretted it about 20 seconds later.

Now I had no way to get out of this. I couldnt go and ask for the flag back and then leave, amidst all this excitement!
I resolve to thinking that at least NOBODY knows me here... and at LEAST if I dont understand, I never have to return to this little pub and never have to face this chap again!

I mentally start to practice some random things I'd like to say about the football, in French.

The interview goes swimmingly - I charm, I joke, I laugh.. I get deep, I speak about Africa's culture and spirit, I speak about Dancing Desmond... and the interview ends on a high note.

Drink please!