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| Another ten - Hands |
| Posted on 30/11/04 at 07:39 by NGONGE |
Last night, I went to the gym again. I recently started suffering from an annoying case of heat. I call it heat because Im not a doctor and would not know what the medical term for heat is. The symptoms of my condition are simple. Every night, when I go to sleep and fall asleep, I wet the bed! Its not as if I suffer from nightmares, though I do, but not that many and not every night. Still, every night, after falling into deep sleep, I suddenly wake up all hot and sweaty. My clothes, body and bed sheets are completely wet.
I spoke to my know-everything friend, Ian, and he told me that I must have energetic dreams! I spoke to my seventy-year-old Jewish doctor, Dr Isaacs, who insists that were related, but thats another story. He told me that Im suffering from stress and that he cant help me, only I can help myself he said. He told me that this heat of mine was like a knife stuck to my heart and it was causing me great pain but he could not take it out. He could wait for me to take it out and then heal the wound!
I decided to take the knife out. I went to the gym to have a sauna and get rid of all the sweat. This is an old traditional family cure that I invented. I got to the gym and asked the receptionist if I could use their Sauna. She was excited to see me! She was all smiles and kept on welcoming me to the club and telling me about all the great special offers they have. She did not give me a chance to talk about the Sauna and my heat. She dragged me around to another woman who was also happy to see me! My piercing gaze did the trick again it seems, I really should buy myself some sunglasses.
The second woman sat me down and asked me if I wanted to try one of their new products . I refused. She insisted and told me that its free. I agreed. The new product was a manicure, mediocre or something that sounded that way. She took my hand and started looking at it. I wondered if she was going to tell me my fortune! I started thinking about my fortune and dreaming of all the things that will come my way. Que Sara was playing in the back of my head. I was dancing around in a German field with a yodelling blonde. A miniature Mohammed Ali was trying to shadowbox me. David Beckham ran past. I couldnt see where he went because the yodelling German kept on swinging me around. I tried to tell her to stop. I looked her right in the eyes. Ah! What great eyes. She wasnt even blonde. She wasnt a German either. She was black! She was Janet Jackson and she was yodelling what have you done for me lately? she was looking directly at me. Has the woman no shame? I wanted to let go but her grip increased. Janet has strong hands. I couldnt get away. I felt a slight pain in my nails. I looked up at Janet to ask her to ease up on the squeezing. Her eyes where white. Janet was gone. It was Halle Berry now! Her hair was white too. There was wind everywhere! I felt the pain in my hand again. I was going to beg the white-eyed beauty to ease her grip. I was going to ask her to hug me if she wants. I was going to insist that she hugs me. I looked up at her. It wasnt Ms Berry anymore! It was her co-star in that movie where she had white eyes. He had a funny half beard. He had an evil look in his eyes. Shame really, he was a nice guy in the movie. The pain increased. I looked down at my hand. His metal blades were going through my nails. I screamed.
Janet, for that was the name of the woman who was reading my fortune, apologised. She told me that I had sweaty hands. I wanted to slap the charlatan. Of course I have sweaty hands you mad bint. Thats why I came to this gym in the first place! I thought by reading my fortune you would tell me something I didnt know. I walked out of the gym without thanking her or taking any notice of what she was shouting after me. I got home and threw my body at the sofa. I asked my wife to pass me a drink. She did. As I took the glass from her, she commented on how nice my hands look! I looked down at my hand. My nails looked great. I turned my hand round and looked at my palm. Mohammed Ali was still trying to shadowbox me. I squashed him and started quietly sipping my drink.
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