Le Moustachu

April 08th 2007

At the canteen (”cafeteria”) in my old building, there was one of the cooks that we called Le Moustachu (hard to translate because it’s a made-up word derived from moustache (”mustache”), it means “The Mustache Man”). He’s skinny, grey hair, wears a really tall hat (the kind you’d find on the cooks at the Hilton), and of course has a pretty thick Soup Nazi-ish mustache. He was very unfriendly and often scolded the young girls who had the unfortunate displeasure of working with him. It was so bad that we stopped going to his station (the BBQ) even if he had the day’s best lunch.

So one day, the cafeteria does this survey. So we fill them out and one of my coworkers, who really dislikes Le Moustachu, writes a little paragraph about him in the “additional comments” section. We tell him they’re not going to know which guy he’s writing about so he draws an amazing accurate picture of the guy. So we all laugh as we turn in our surveys.

The next week the guy was not there. Vacation? Nope. He never came back. Whoa, did we get him fired? “Hope so” my friend said. And that is the story of le moustachu.

Well almost. About 6 months later (maybe more), I go to the cafeteria and I choose the international station where they usually have a good mix of ethnic foods. And low and behold there he is, Notre Moustachu! (”our mustache guy!”). Being a fan of exotic food, I almost always go to this stand. So I start seeing him every day.

Now here I must take a small detour to tell you that in general, Americans like a lot of sauce and the French do not. I often see the French eating a fillet of fish and white rice, without any sauce! Yuck! So I have a habit of asking for extra sauce. And Le Moustachu is no exception. “May I please have some more sauce?” I managed to squeak out one day. “Vous être Anglais?” (”Are you English?”) he asks? I tell him I’m American and he gives me a second ladle of sauce. Cool.

The next day he recognizes me and says “Hello” in English. So I try to say a few words in English that he would understand, like “thank you”. So this goes on for a few days and he’s getting friendlier and friendlier. It gets to the point where I don’t even have to ask for extra sauce. In fact, he’s giving me three ladles of sauce which is way too much! I’ve never had so much sauce in France! I’m drowning in it!! So I’m quite proud of myself because I’ve got him in my pocket with my charming American accent! And to think this was the mean guy we tried to get fired. It turns out he’s a nice guy after all!

Ok, the story’s not over yet. Not too long after making friends with Le Moustachu I transferred to another division in the building next door. And after being absent from the cafeteria for a month, I started eating there with my new coworker. He likes ethnic food too so we go to the international station and I see Le Moustachu. I explain to my friend how the guy is really mean to people but nice to me. So when it’s our turn I say “hi” to Le Moustachu and he completely ignores me and just serves me my food and doesn’t even give me a second look. So my friend, who is a real smart-ass (like myself, which is why we have so much fun together) says “I thought you said this guy was your friend!” really loud. I was a bit embarrassed because it was like Le Moustachu didn’t know me at all.

We don’t eat there very often, as we’re often on assignments at client sites. But I am not giving up on Le Moustachu, I’m going to win him over again. And I’m going to enjoy my extra sauce!

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Comments

2 Comments so far

  1. Anonymous on April 9, 2007 15:08

    I wonder if all the people that you “try to charm” are actually doing a number on you? Maybe the word is out about you so everyone does the “mean, crabby, unfriendly” routine just to see how long you will “work” at making them your friends. It’s food for thought!!

  2. Anonymous on April 10, 2007 16:22

    The last post is hilarious. Probably true, too. (If I thought I was being “worked” I’d do be crabby as long as I could stand it…without laughing.)

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