For the last couple of weeks my poor right hand has been in severe pain. Being the freak that I am I did a bit of research on t’interweb and decided that it must be due to arthritis. Everything I read fitted what my poor hand was experiencing so obviously that was the answer.
Yes, yes, we all know that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing and it’s not that I’m a hypochondriac or anything but I do like to know what I’m dealing with and it all fit.
So, after having worried and fretted for days because a photographer with arthritis in her hands can’t be a good thing, I eventually, and very reluctantly as I don’t like to spend much time there, made myself an appointment at the doctor’s.
He prodded, poked, bent and twisted my aching mitt in all directions, all with no discern able response from me till he touched the side of my hand, at which point I nearly shot through the ceiling.
” Oh yes. You haven’t got arthritis, you’ve got tendonitis. Stop doing whatever it is your doing with that hand and it’ll get better.”
Hhhmm, I know what’s done that. Computer work and holding my hand in the same position for hours holding my pen tablet stylus.
So here I am having to relearn how to use a mouse instead of my pen tablet and stylus as I’ve been doing for a few years now. God! It’s like going back ten years! It all feels really slow and clumsy but never mind, it’ll be worth it to get rid of the pain I’ve been suffering.
Moving swiftly on….Did I tell you I was out with my old meditation circle buddies last week? No? Oh, what a hoot.
As I always did, I picked up one of the ladies as she doesn’t drive and I live closest. Unfortuately, this is the one with whom I have least in common and her monotone voice drives me insane, along with her talking utter shite and failure to ever really add anything to the circle.
“Mmmmm, I’m ready for my dinner.” I said. “I’ve already eaten”, she said.
“Why, you knew we were going out for a meal.”
“No one told me and anyway, I can’t afford it.”
Meaning of course that she just didn’t want to pay for a meal out. Since we all got sent the same round robin message about going out we all knew fine well she knew about it. It didn’t make me want to restart our circle. All it really did was remind me why it split in the first place. Never mind.
Pulling up at the appointed pub, the phone rang just as I was parking.
“Hiya, it’s me. I’m here but ummm, it seems to be a singles night.”
BWAAAHAAHAAAAAAA!! NO WAY!!!! Singles night and four middle aged birds are out? We must have looked for all the world like we were on the pull.
“Well, we’ll have to go in because Julie isn’t here yet and I can’t reach her on her phone.”
Having ascertained that ‘ grab a munter night’ otherwise known as ‘singles night’ didn’t actually start till 9.00pm, when the fourth member of our group arrived we made our way to our table and ordered our food. It was curry night: curry, poppadom, naan bread, rice or chips and a drink for a fiver. Not too shabby at all.
We tucked in to our food, well, three of us did, the other one just sat and watched. We caught up on gossip and enjoyed a pleasant couple of hours.
Shortly before we got up to leave we heard an announcement that ‘singles night’ had begun and that the hostess that evening was Blah de blah blah. I’m certain that isn’t really her name but that’s all I could make out.
Taking that as our cue to leave, we got up to leave and walked from the dining room to the bar area which we had to walk through to get to the door, all the available men in the room turned and looked at us with happy faces and open gestures, their smiling eyes inviting us to go in and join them.
The women on the other hand were all looking at us with scowls and closed body language, they might as well have shouted ‘Fook off, you lot!’ We all scuttled past, heads down and embarrassed. Mind you, as I was the only one of us actually in a relationship the other three would have been perfectly within their rights wanting to stay.
Walking into the bar, my friend asked me if I knew one of the women as she seemed to be trying to catch my eye. “No, I don’t think so,” I said as I craned my neck trying to see who she meant. The next thing you know, the organiser is striding over to me,
“Hellooooo!!!!! Welcome. Are you looking for me? Do you want to join?”
” Er, um, no, um, my friend, um, thought, um. No. Thank you.”
My friends fell about laughing at my discomfort and we quickly moved outside as one of our group needed a ciggie.
Shelagh, our tall, gorgeous, slim, man magnet friend with legs long enough to give Barbie a run for her money, decided to visit the ladies.
“Oh yes, get us all safely outside then you sneak back in for better look. Puh-lease!”
While we waited for Shelagh, the male smokers outside continued the eyeing up process that we’d just experienced inside. Most disconcerting. It felt a bit like being the prize cow in a cattle market. You could almost hear them thinking, “Fresh meat, yum yum.’
After a couple of minutes Shelagh came back out laughing so much she could hardly stand. Eventually she was able to tell us that as she came out of the ladies she was very aware of people watching her every movement. She strode over to the front door, hiding her self consciousness, flung it wide open and strode through it confidently.
The second she walked though she realised it wasn’t the front door as she’d thought but a cupboard!!! Haahaaaaaaa!!
Knowing full well that half the pub had just watched her walk in there, she had no choice but to walk straight back out. Head held high she flung the door open again and strode out trying to look like she’d intended to walk in the cupboard all along.
Her decorum didn’t last long though, as soon as she was outside she collapsed in a heap laughing and we got no sense out of her for a good five minutes. By which time the single male smokers had all decided we were mad women and gone back inside.
As reunions go it actually wasn’t a bad one. Next time though we might be a bit more careful about which night we choose, I don’t think my nerves would stand another singles night.