Monte Carlo

 Every time I look down at my right foot I'm reminded of  Monte Carlo. We all tend to remember the place where something important has happened to us. It was a long time ago. I‘d gone there  to install some equipment for a big exhibition. My colleague and I picked up a hire car at Nice airport, and off we went on that famous road to Monaco. It was a hair-raising experience all those bends on the corniche with a sheer drop down to the sea. I’d seen it all on James Bond films and here I was experiencing the real thing.

"Wasn't it here that Princess Grace's car went off?" I asked my mate.

 "Yes, her brakes gave up. Now you keep your eyes on the road - we don't want to go down there and see." my mate said.  When we got to Monte Carlo, the view down towards the port was breathtaking. The blue water with all the yachts each one more beautiful than the other.

"We've got some time before the trucks arrive with the equipment, let's stop and have a drink at one of the waterfront cafes." I said. We could sat here and admire the huge yachts that looked like luxury liners. You could just imagine the parties and receptions on those things. Not for us I thought. We had to get to the exhibition centre and get everything ready. There'd be plenty of time once the show started to have some fun.

By the evening, the truck had arrived and we worked right through the night getting everything installed and working. "Leave it all running, we'll trim things up before the show starts," I said. We were pretty tired now and there was a risk we might mess things up at the end. Our accomodation was pretty handy, just across from the exhibition centre. Time to get a few hours' sleep and get back for the morning start I thought as I got into bed and closed my eyes. I could have sworn that it was only half an hour later when the alarm went off.I wearily rolled out of my bed and made for the bathroom. I fumbled and swayed back and forth like a drunken sailor but I managed to get into the bath and turn on the shower. 

As I groped around pulling the curtain and reaching for the controls trying to adjust the jet before getting under it,  I lost my balance and trying to steady myself, I leaned towards the wall and grabbed at the heavy glass soap holder.  As I swayed back away from the wall, I lost my foothold and needed to hold onto something to steady me up. To my dismay the glass holder came down, hit the edge of the bath and smashed into pieces, one of which fell and sliced my foot deep into the flesh. It all happened so quickly and I was still pretty drowzy from lack of sleep. There was blood everywhere! I never knew that I had so much of the stuff. The shock woke me up good and proper though.  I took the towel from the rack above me - there was no phone in the bathroom so I'd have to run right across the carpet  and mess everything up. What a bloody mess. I had to get some help and pretty quick.

I stepped out of the bath, wrapped the towel around my foot and hobbled back to the bedside to call for help. I also called my mate in the next room to come and give me a hand. I needed some help to get dressed. After this, all I remember is being driven in an ambulance to the hospital at the top of the town. There I was treated by a couple of nurses who stitched my foot together.

"You won't be going to the beach with that foot" one of them said.

"What beach?" I replied. " I've got to go to work."

"Not with this you won't. You mustn't put any pressure on it , otherwise the stiches will give and you'll break the tendons. Total rest the doctor ordered."

"Looks like the show is over for you Joe. You'll have five days here on your balcony, and then we'll ship you home. But don't worry, we'll keep you up to date on events, " my friend said. They took me back to the hotel where I was to spend the time with my leg high up on a chair - at least most of the time.

The Fury of a Scorned Woman

Harassment at work is not something that happens only to women. A jealous or obsessed woman can be dangerous in a much more subtle way than a man. In today’s modern work environment, some women may well develop a complex about the way that others see them and may create havoc in normal working relationships.

This happened once, when  a new girl came to work in our laboratory. She'd just got married and the women in the lab where I worked had not taken to her, because she was such a gossip. It was obvious from the outset that she'd be a load of trouble. Mike and I were the only male lab technicians so she'd turn  her attention to us; sometimes sweet and other times sour.

"Are you two talking about me again?" she’d say  as she looked over and watch  us  chatting and laughing. Mike would look at her but say nothing - just smile. It was best not to get into an argument with Vera.

"Thank God the rest of the girls aren’t like her," Mike would say.

"Yea, and for the life of me I can’t see what her husband sees in her. " I'd reply. Her black hair was so greasy it hang down the sides of her pale face just like a witch.  "A worn out paint brush goes well with that pale complexion,” I would add.. We'd  usually carry on chatting and ignore her, which would infuriate her.

 One day, she went over the top.  "I told my Bert about you two, how you harass me, and he’s coming to sort you out. He’ll take that smile off your faces; you'll see."

"Who’s harassing whom Vera? Maybe it’s time I complained to the management about you," I said not realising that this time she'd really decided to  bring her husband into it. It wasn’t long after; a guy came through the double doors of the lab like a bull in a china shop. He was short and well built with broad shoulders. He came straight towards Vera.

"Is he one of them?" he barked as he looked straight at Mike. By now there was pandemonium in the lab.  Jones the supervisor quickly got up trying to calm everyone down, as some of the girls made for the door.  The lab was no place for a "loose cannon" like this guy. Bottles with harmful chemicals on the benches,  glassware all over the place and delicate instruments, as well as burettes full of acid. Anything rough could not only cause injury,  there was always the danger of an explosion.

"I don’t know how you got in, but you’d better get out, you have no right to come in here," said the supervisor meekly, as he was pushed out of the way.

"There’s the other one" Vera pointed at me triumphantly.

"You two are in for a good hiding," he said.

The supervisor went back to his desk and picked up the phone. "Hello security? We have a violent intruder in the lab, please come and get him out before someone gets hurt."

In no time two burly guards arrived and quietly but firmly escorted Bert out of the lab and off the premises. As he went he looked back and snapped, "I’ll be waiting for you two outside the gates at lunch time. Be there if you know what’s good for you."  

"I don’t see that we have much of a choice. Either we go and give him satisfaction or we’ll have to run scared for the remainder of our stay here," I told Mike.

"No, we’ll go and meet him; maybe we can knock some sense into him. Poor devil, imagine how he must feel after that woman poisoned his mind."

At lunch time, we went out and Bert - true to his word was waiting for us. Right over the road there was a derelict site that Bert chose for the fight. As he took off his jacket, he said, "OK you two, I’ll use my belt to even things up."

"Can't we talk this thing over?" Mike said as I looked at the belt and saw the heavy metal buckle. I knew that if that thing  caught us, the fight would be over quickly. One swipe from that belt and it would be a hospital job.

There was no time to lose now - we'd have to get it over as quickly as possible. I jumped him and tried to hold his arms back. Mike managed to grab the buckle as Bert swung it at him and he pushed it into Bert's face. 

Suddenly Bert shouted, "I can’t see, I can’t see," as blood poured down his face.

The fight was over!  People who'd gathered for the midday show, looked on as Vera ran to her husband crying and wiped his face. She screamed. “You f***ng  b*****ds you’ll pay for this, look at what you’ve done to my Bert! You cowards, we’ll get you.”

Luckily the buckle had caught him above the eye, and he looked worse than he was.  She was still swearing when Bert suddenly turned on her. “Why don’t you just shut up?” let’s  get home and clean this up.” I looked at Vera, and looked at Bert. Would he finally find the courage to sort her out? I doubted it!

That afternoon the supervisor called us all together. "Vera won’t be coming back and we’ve decided not to press charges against her husband for trespassing. Hopefully we can now all get back to work and put this episode behind us." Well, that was easy for him but not for Mike and me who for weeks afterwards had to meet  at the station and get the bus to work together.