It is a strange feature of the French employment system that once somebody has been engaged for permanent work, it is almost impossible to get rid of them, no matter how terrible they are at performing their duties. Thus it was with some alarm that the future then husband and I met the new addition to the team of managing agents we had engaged to let out the apartment we had bought here in Nice.
This 'woman' (let's assume for the purposes of this piece that she emanated from this planet, and was not, as I really suspect, hatched in another universe) had a highly-memorable name. I won't publish it here, but it contained both the word for a beautiful celestial entity, along with a very delicious liqueur. Thus, we'll call her Tia-Maria Seraphim.
The FTH (future then husband, keep up!) ambled into the immobilier one day in order to sort out some details relating to our property. One employee was talking very fast into a phone, whilst the proprietor, JR, rushed towards the FTH looking worried.
On one occasion I asked her on which date the bank statements were sent out.
She has worked in that branch for the past 40 years, and she doesn't know???