286. Definitely not coping (1)

Please dear reader remember that I write this blog to help me cope with life. So bear with me as yet an other story about the cute furry animal(s) in the attic is coming along.

An other night of mad partying and I woke up this morning tired and grumpy and determined to be decisive and firm. 

A cup of coffee and I am on my way to the nearest town. The little pink car is bumping along nicely, up and down the mountain sides, across bridges and past the (dried up) waterfall.

I park the car in an empty carpark. I have managed to beat the local farmers to their own shop. Soon droves of farmers and farmers' wives and farmers' kids will be in here buying live chickens, chainsaws, Wellington boots and guns (yes, guns, and yes I live dangerously). 

I head straight to the till. Two men are at the till, one sitting behind it and one standing to the side of it. It is not obvious which one is the customer which one is the vendor. In fact there seem to be just two local farmers having a chat. They seem to be having a conversation with few words. It makes it easy to squeeze in.

'Good morning!' 

I want to sound cheery and bright but I just sound angry and annoyed, and a little too loud. I smile to compensate. 

'Good morning!' Both seem happy with the disruption. They look at me expectantly. 

'I have an animal in my attic and I want a trap to catch it. Please.'

I wondered if I should have said kill and am expecting some sneering comments as to why just catch it. Their sixth sense tells them it is better for everyone if I am taken seriously. The man to the side of the till answers right away.

'A weasel. It is a weasel. I guarantee it.'

I stare. He dares make fun of me. Again I sound angry and annoyed. 

'How do you know it is a weasel?' 

All these hours asking Google stupid questions about animals who live in attics and watching videos about animal sounds to identify the culprit. 

'Does it make a lot of noise?'

'Yes! A terrible racket! It wakes me up. Hence the trap.' 

'Weasels. Definitely. No hesitation whatsoever.' He pauses for attention. He can see I am getting impatient and turning my attention to the man behind the till and so he continues in a grand tone of voice. 

'I have an infallible method to help you get rid of this nuisance. It is my very own solution. I should have it patented. I've tested it. It does work. And it is cheap and easy.'

The other man is going to fall asleep and I am going to find an other shop. 

'Get a light bulb for your attic. These animals like the dark and they won't come into a well-lit attic. ... ' He pauses for effect and then goes on to tell me that he has a gîte and that he tells the tourists to turn on the light in the attic. And he never has any problems! Meanwhile a third man appears from nowhere holding a super sophisticated low-energy light bulb.

'It's ok. I have a light in my attic. Are you sure they're weasels?' 

'Certain. There is a rare exception that they are not and that is if the house is close to the woods. Then they could be martens.'

'My house is on the edge of a wood.' I say.

'Ah. Alors. Peut-être ... ' And they both laugh.

These guys are mad. I say thank you and run out forgetting to ask to view the traps. Pity as I am sure they have a whole selection. I drive home thinking at least I have saved money.