No pie?

Husband, mother in law, Ferdinand and I packed into a VW polo to make the trip from Umbria to London. Flat tire in the tunnel in Basel. Ferdinand and I walked to Novartis headquarters, just at the other end of a parking lot. It shone like a beacon through the dark and even though I was sure it would be closed at 10 at night, twenty foot glass doors swung open as we approached and the man behind the desk, as if in a dream said, “come in. You can sit here. we have restrooms just down the stairs.” The whole place gleamed with the most amazing golden marble like I have never seen. I must have looked unsure re the reality of the situation. “Don’t be afraid,” he said.
Ferdinand is usually a public restroom shunner. We walked to the bottom of the palace steps and I opened the door of the men’s room to check for him. “Ferd,” I said,”it’s a whole new world in there. welcome to the world of Switzerland.”
An hour later we were in St. Louis just across the border in France, searching for dinner and a cheap hotel. No restaurants except Mcdonald’s open for the weary. super popular at closing time. struggled to order cheeseburger and a diet coke. Mcdonald’s is supposed to be my language-I know how to speak it, but my expertise got me nowhere. they changed everything but big Mac, which the rest of my crowd ordered with small beers. small beers!!!!! In a Mcdonald’s. and no apple pies. she kept showing me apple juice, apple puree, sliced apples..what kind of Mcdonalds doesn’t fry their apples in a pie that slides out of a box? I told Ferd he would have to eat mentos from the gas station for dessert.

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