Never a dull day

 On Friday I decided to slum it, I didn't wash my hair, put on a shabby tee shirt and jeans and set to work doing those chores around the house that get put off week after week.  I was on my knees scrubbing the dirt that accumulates on skirting boards when you live in an apartment that is 300 years old, when two men appeared in the doorway.  One was the plumber and the other his 16 year old son.  'Just came to say hello,' Michel said, walking in and taking a seat at the table.  I got to my feet.  'Great,' I said, 'lovely to see you.'  I would have said come in and take a seat but they had pre-empted me.  'Would you like a coffee?' I asked, as my American neighbour appeared and joined them at the table.  'Sue,' Michel said, 'we have coffee at breakfast and after lunch,' and looking at his watch, 'now it's apero time.'  Of course it was, how silly of me not to notice.  I glanced at the clock, 12.20pm, and then at the shelf where there is often a bottle or two of red wine lurking.  It was empty.  I opened the fridge and spied a bottle of white.  My neighbour got the glasses out of the cupboard and I grabbed the bottle opener.  After about ten minutes, by which time I had taken a cautious sip from my glass and they had emptied theirs, Michel announced, 'Come on let's all go and have lunch somewhere.'  I looked at the bucket of soapy water and scrubbing brush,  then grabbed my keys and followed the others.  Well what would you have done?