Sometimes The Turk surprises me and the other morning was one of those days where his genius, usually well hidden, comes shining through.
We have been building an apartment upstairs, which may or may not have approval – and let’s just leave it at that shall we?
I have a very clear idea of how I want the apartment to look. My style is simple, lots of crème and coffee colours complimented with lots of wood. Simple, modern fixtures and fittings. Nothing ostentatious. Dare I say it? Nothing too Turkish. On the other hand my builder’s style is literally the opposite of mine. His idea of style and class is to vomit as many colours as possible into a palate and compliment them with swirls and geometric shapes into every type of putrid combination possible. He has said to me on more than one occasion that my style is old fashioned and I need to follow his esteemed advice.
Needless to say the builder and I have come to loggerheads more times than I would like to admit to. The Turk has given up now. When the doorbell goes he disappears into the bathroom and won’t come out until he is sure that either I have left or the builder has left … taking me with him.
Last week I went into Adana for the day where I enjoyed a few bevvies with friends and came home to pass out on the couch. A very successful day. The next morning I went upstairs to check on progress of the apartment and I nearly vomited (and not from the hangover). The builder, obviously beside himself with glee with the knowledge that Janey was not only out of the Village but out of the damn city, and went ahead to install the ugliest the light fittings I had ever seen.
I said to The Turk, “have you seen what they have done upstairs?” and he, realising that a fight was imminent, denied any knowledge of it.
The next morning he sat me down in front of a can of opened tuna and this happened:
The Turk: Let me tell you something. You don’t eat fish right?
The Turk: It will kill you right?
The Turk: But you should eat fish. It’s good for you.
Me: But I’m allergic.
The Turk: No. Fish is good for you. You cannot be allergic to fish.
Me: But I am.
The Turk: You do not know what you are talking about. You are wrong. Fish is very healthy. Good for your heart. You will eat the fish now.
Me: I don’t want any fecking fish you fecker!
The Turk: And that is the story of the light fittings!
Me: Oh an analogy. Very nice (wait two beats) Get rid of the fecking light fittings for feck’s sake! And the ceiling rose. I’m going to vomit all over it!
The Turk: OK darling.
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