I kept my promise

Over a month ago Rick and I were heading back to France on the train. Because of track work, the first leg of the journey was by bus. We'd be on the bus at least a half hour.

As always we arrived well in advance. But then I had to pee. I mean PEE.  PEE!

It was too long to get to the train station's pay toilet. The bus was due at any minute. I ran to the hotel Montbrilliant directly behind the station.

"Our toilets are for our clients," the waiter told me. It was early and the staff were preparing the tables for lunch

I garbled out things like bus, no time, desperation, couldn't not wet my pants before Bellgarde, where the bus would take us. My French becoming less and less understandable.

Finally the man behind the bar told me to go ahead and waved his hand toward the stairs leading to the blessed toilet.

Relief.

Coming back up the stairs, I told him, "I promise when I'm back in Geneva, I'll eat here."

Yesterday I kept the promise.

Rick pronounced the menu du jour of ham some of the best he'd ever eaten. He even liked the green beans and the snowpea pods. He wolfed down the potato au gratin.

I kept my promise. It wasn't hard.