My unusual job

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19 March

I live under one of the bridges of the Île de la Cité - I'm not saying which, and I change from time to time, but that's where I sleep, and have my home.

I choose to live there, as I have an important duty to carry out, and it's just that I feel more comfortable with this way of life.

By day, my business is bananas, 'hands' of bananas they call them in English (but not in French), and I inspect them wherever they are to be found, and they are even to be found in very small quantities in Les Halles, an area where once they abounded.

I smell them, feel them, taste them, so that I know where the best specimens are to be found at any time - the bananas that are most fresh, most juicy, and more like a peach than many one knows.

The true Frenchman and -woman value this information, because they have a native passion akin to that of Gauguin, so they scan my column, which tells them everything that they need to know, first by arrondisement and by the style of fruit within each (because there is no one such thing, o no, as a banana any more than 'a white wine').

But I also give links to the neighbouring arrondisements, so that my readers can choose: someone in the fifth might be the wrong side, and be nearer to a good supplier on the sixth, so I think that through for him or her and have a feature that cross-references in that way.

And I do very well on it. I remain anonymous, with a wealth of disguises to make my visits, and I receive a big bag of letters every week from those grateful to me for what I do, so I am content.


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