Only in Switzerland

Imagine going to your friendly neighbourhood butcher shop to buy your meat for the week. Now imagine your freindly neighbourhood butcher handing you your bag with goodies and saying, with a freindly smile: "That comes to 72.00 swiss franks sir." Ok, now imagine that you reach in your pocket and realize you've forgotten your wallet at home. Keep imagining. Imagine, just for a second, that you smile back at your friendly neighbourhood butcher and say: "Oh gosh, I seem to have forgot my wallet, but thank you for the meat, I'll be sure to pay you next week when I'm in." Still with me? Now imagine, just for a split second, that your friendly neighbourhood butcher, still smiling his friendly smile, hands you the grocery bag, thanks you for shopping at your friendly neighbourhood butcher shop and even holds the door open for you so your son can roll out on his tricycle. A nice euthopian dream, no? No.

That just happened to my husband this morning. Only in Switzerland. Well, hold on, that's not entirely true. Because, you see, I'm not sure if that would have gone down like that somewhere in Zurich or Geneva. But in this little, sleepy, swiss Alp village, it sure does. In this little, sleepy, swiss Alp village, where (for better or for worse...and in this case, for better) "everybody knows your name, and they're sure glad you came", even if you came without your wallet. After all, they know where you live!

Turns out my husband forgot a couple of things and I'm on my way now (soon as I finish typing) back to our friendly neighbourhood butcher shop to get them. Oh, and pay the bill!