So the music starts and we get started slowly and I'm in the rhythm and I'm thinking that I might manage to stay focused on the whole session this time - and then this girl walks in. Fit. Whisky-wow-wow, I breathed. Magnificent and she was dressed in beige hotpants and light brown plunging neckline and knocked around woollen legwarmers with holes in looking just as cool as a pair of levi hipsters I had over 30 years ago which I spent ages kicking around and washing and re-washing until they looked just right. And she was incredibly fit - I mean what was she doing there? Looking like that she just didn't need it. A dead ringer for Carla Bruni - and come to think of it maybe it was Carla Bruni - maybe I am going to get her tested to see if there are any traces of Mick Jagger inside her (homeopathically speaking), just to be sure. Anyway, that was it. I fell apart, kept on losing my place and my step, point, talons, point, talons, oh yeah, whoops, right leg or left leg, blah blah. Nightmare. All my plans out of the window. And instead of my interest levels collapsing in 5 minutes, it was about 35 minutes before the effort and pain of the whole thing started to engross me more than Carla. Sullen looking as well and pouting - but really dark and really really sullen. And fit.
It didn't help either that everytime my attention started to return to my own body, she would start ferreting around in her capacious handbag - out comes the Blackberry and she's texting 85 words per minute and 2 minutes later she's checking the responses. She must have had that Blackberry out of that bag at least a dozen times and I can tell you that it had a distraction value of 8/10. What does any woman need a bag that big for anyway. I wondered if her present Beau was actually inside typing his answers. I was really getting angry about it. I'd like to get her phone number and send her a message that her house is on fire.
Anyway, after about 35 minutes of it I manged to lose interest (mostly) and get back to what I was doing.
The trouble was that by that time, I was in my usual state with blood pumping over my eyes and trying to take little short breathers without Francoise noticing too much. All my great ideas and my planning and confidence out of the window. I may have to go to Plan B.
I don't suppose that Carla was too impressed either. I wonder whether she is going to come again?
I'm quite impressed that I actually manage to think about something other than pain for 35 minutes. The trouble is that I can't figure out if it is because I am actually improving after 4 sessions or it was just because of Carla? I'll have to give this some thought.
God came down to check out his handiwork. He asked Adam how it was going. Adam said it's fine, but the women, God, why did you make them so beautiful?
So that you'll love them, says God.
Wow, God - that's brillliant ... but why did you make them so stupid, asks Adam.
So that they'll love you, says God.