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I used to work in France and got a call one day from my boss asking me to go to Lille train station and 'rescue' his car. He had to abandon it while he ran for his train.
When I got there, he had managed to wedge his Renault Espace in the entrance of the car park as he'd forgotten about the roof box on it, blocking one of the main car park entrances.
By the time I had got there with the spare keys (he took the originals when he ran for his train), there was about 30 very irate French people. In my best broken French I tried to explain that it wasn't my car blah blah but they were having none of it. It was only when I shouted in English that 'it's not my fudgeing car' that they seemed to get the message! |
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