LucyLovesCircus

Friday, 3 October 2014

Chapter 38: On Clowning Around with the Tennis Coach


Right, I am so many posts behind where I want to be.  Caught up in cupcakes and card-making - my son's birthday this weekend -  I have yet to write about the phenomenal "Séquence 8" at Sadlers Wells last weekend, or the pile-up at Oxbridge Circus, but I heard an unbelievable story on Heart FM yesterday while on the school run, and just have to share it.

Emma and Jamie were inviting listeners to share with them secrets that they have never told their spouses.  Bingo! I thought. Back to Chapter 35 (click here) and the post on Circus and Secrets #zeitgeist.  The secrets shared are amusing, fairly anodyne stuff. Then up pops "Jules".  I can't remember the dialogue verbatim, but it went something like this (the italics are my thoughts while listening along):




"For years I've been squirrelling away money without telling wife."  OK, so what's new? I bet a fair few do that.

"Then last year we went with friends on holiday to Mauritius."  OK, well good, at least she's reaping the dividends too. 

"While on holiday, me and my mate bought a house on the island without telling our partners..." Like you do?!! OK, that's newsworthy. Like the guy in the papers the other day who bought an entire village in Cornwall from the National Trust without telling his wife until afterwards, because she would think he was batty and would have stopped him.  

"…and we are *never* going to tell them either..." Come again? Why not?!

"… you see, it's our insurance policy for when we get older. When they run off with the young tennis coach we have our own little bit of paradise to retire to and drink beers. Sorted." 



Oh jeez, I wish you could have heard the banter with Emma and Jamie, it was blimming hilarious - the story so utterly surreal and unexpected, and, quite frankly, a humdinger.  And then after the laughter subsided, my heckles rose on behalf of his poor wife.  The tennis coach, such a cliché, seriously?! Good grief! Doesn't he trust her? Doesn't bode well ... "Gone Girl" sprang to mind, doing the rounds at the moment…




Still, the story reminded me that I have tennis credits to use up on my own account and cycling past the tennis courts later that day, I stopped in at the office to see what were my options.  So I was highly amused when the drop-dead good-looking young tennis coach innocently suggested that maybe I'd want to use them on a couple of private lessons.  Haha, that old chestnut! For a moment, I was transported to my own experience of some one-to-one tennis lessons on the tropical paradise that is the island of Mustique, in the Grenadines.  That haven for well-groomed, well-heeled, bored, rich housewives (heaven knows how I ended up there!) and a hotbed of gossip too … I've forgotten most of it, but do remember it was a real eye-opener of a fortnight. 

Anyway, I can still hear this tennis coach's richly honeyed Caribbean tones:  "Loosee, Loosee, you gotta be con-sis-tent Loosee.  It's all about working up a rhythm, girl. I throw you five fine balls. You hit three great shots.  I want five great shots.  You gotta be con-sis-tent, girl." "Alright, alright" I retorted, "I get the message.  I know you find my stroke erotic…" Doh!  Luckily I was so red-faced in the sun already, the hot blush went unremarked.  

So, what I'll do with the tennis credits?
To be honest, think it's best sticking them on the kids account, and saving up my erotic strokes for our retirement plan …

My Candy Crush



  



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