Hard head

“You need to wear a hard hat to work here.”

We are in a hotel lobby. He’s not wearing a hard hat and he’s working. We are here to deconstruct six little SEG Frames that someone couldn’t find at the derig. It’s the Hyatt Regency where all the media bods have been sleeping. We don’t need a hard hat to work here. The derig is over. He’s just making it up because he has a hard hat.

“Can I borrow yours?” “No. I have to wear it.” *pause* *longer pause* *longer pause* *he puts it on* *beat*

“What if I tell you I’ve got a hard hat even if I don’t.”

“You have to have a hard hat.”

This isn’t an active site. Nobody is wearing hi-vis. I’ve got one of those in the glove compartment just in case, but I didn’t think to bring a hard hat and they’re not so easy to roll up and stick in a container. I’m so used to the Frankery that it no longer exasperates me though. I’m just gonna find a way through. He has said no, and no is final. There is nothing to be gained from persisting with this human being now. For the French, “no” is a final solution, after which there can be only shrugging.

I try anyway.

“Can we borrow your spare hard hat, there on the floor? And only one of us will work?”

“No, it might be needed.”

“Do you have a hard hat in your store room? Is there a bucket of hard hats to be issued to staff?”

*shrug*

“Because I know where there’s a bucket of hard hats but it’s about an hour’s drive and it would be a waste of time.”

*shrug*

“and it’s not an active site.”

*shrug*

“So why don’t the two of us start work, and you can call your boss. I’m here because he wants these frames gone. Maybe he can find me a hard hat.”

We start work. He gets on his walkie talkie. We stop work as I know someone will come now. He does. A new human, but my last chance.

“Good morning chef, thank you for taking the time to help me.” (They’re suckers for protocol, the French. And the boss always likes to be the acknowledged as the boss.) “We have been asked to remove the little frames and have come to take them apart. In the knowledge that this isn’t an active site, would it be acceptable to you if we worked without protective clothing. The other option would be to carry them individually down the stairs and deconstruct in the street, but I asked your fine colleague here to ask you if it might be possible just as it is a quick job for myself and my colleague to do it here. We won’t be touching the scaffolding. Just these little light frames that are in your way.” He’s about five foot tall. He’s not wearing a hat or hi-vis and he knows it. He looks up at me, looks across to Fi, looks back at me. I take off my hat. My expression is serious. He nods once, curtly. “This is okay. Go ahead.” He then instructs our friend from earlier that it’s ok and we can do our fecking job. Hooray etc. We get to deconstruct frames.

So we take the things apart on the marble floor. Stage one complete. Then I push my luck.

“Chef, thank you so much for your understanding earlier, we have nearly finished but I wonder if you might have a chariot we could employ in order to transport these items downstairs in the lift.” “No chariot. It is no chariot throughout the whole building.” “So you have no chariots in this _hotel?” I just feather the word hotel.”Yes sir we have no chariots in this _hotel but for the chariots of the guests.” “Ah there are chariots of the guests, perhaps there is a possibility I might be able to employ a chariot of the guests?” “Absolutely no possibility. The chariots of the guests are of the guests, mister, you are not a guest so you cannot employ the chariots.” It’s another no, and another dead end, and I know it. I don’t want him following me around so I am maintaining the appearance of humble politeness. “I understand you very well chef.”

I go down in the lift to the basement, borrow a pallet truck that’s right in front of me when I get out of the lift, put a pallet on the chariot and trundle it back up to the marble floor. Chef is gone so we put all the frames onto the pallet and I fight them into the goods lift while Ffion gets the van past more bemused French people and into the hotel basement.

I’m sharing the interaction in fine detail because it is so typical of my general working days here. It’s why I’ve often been fuming at the end of them, sometimes too tired to see the humour. It’s easy unless you start to assume it’ll be easy. As soon as you expect it to be easy they make it hard on purpose.

This was my last day. Fi has the hat now. I expect she’s already cleaned out the vans. I’m writing in the morning because Mel, Fi and I went for dinner in Montmartre after work and when I went home I fell asleep immediately.