Who the h--- is Virginie?

The hall lights have not worked, so I called my friendly repair man. Gigi. Unlike most French  workmen, he shows up when he promises, finishes work when he promises and is reasonably priced.

He showed up with Flo, his dog, whom I gave water to.

A few minutes later he came back up and said it was an EDF problem. He offered to call the electrical company, except I couldn't find a copy of the bill with the repair service number.

Not to worry, he had the number at home and headed there to make the necessary connection.

Within ten minutes he was on the phone. "What's the name of the association that pays the bill?" he asked. "EDF wants to know."

"No association, my name," I told him.

A little later he called. "The bill is in the name of a Virginie" (I didn't catch the last name). "She lives in Aude." There has never been a Virginie in the building either as owner or tenant. I doubt a guest of anyone living here would want to pay for the hall lights whether or not their name was Virginie or something else.

Several frustrating calls and two hours later, Gigi was back talking to EDF in front of the electrical counter.

Even though it was Sunday an EDF truck showed up within the hour. The man spent less than five minutes fixing the problem. The lights were on.

Gigi would take no money for his hours on the phone sorting the problem. I don't know how I would have been able to cope or not to cope in French. Not that my French is bad but telephones can be daunting depending on the speed of the speaker and when Gigi, a person who only speaks French, had so much trouble...well you can imagine the rest.

Only later in the day did I discover the lights were still on. The way the system works is you press the button and the lights stay on long enough to find your flat and then they go out. A nice ecological and economical way. They do not stay on constantly.

We shut off the main switch rather than have the lights burn all night.

The next day I asked Gigi if he could call EDF again.

He showed up with Flo and his tool box and voilà the lights were now going on when they should and off when they should.

He still didn't want to take any money. I insisted because if he didn't, I said, I felt I couldn't call on him again. (Maybe he thought that was a good thing.)

Flo walked to the sink, barked and drank the water I gave her.

I still don't know who Virginie is--but I hope she's not paying the bill for the hall lights, because I'm paying it. On the other hand, I'm sure EDF would like double payment.