Charm School
The twenty third instalment of “From the Booth”, my Weekly Story Subscription Service (!”$) Johnny White Really-Really
‘If I throw up – be sick, that is – I expect it to be an unpleasant experience. I wouldn’t have it any other way, if that sounds right. It has to be horrible, and I’m prepared for it to be like that, horrible like that. But, and it’s a big but, I always expect to feel relief after I’d finished. Now, what you might not know is the relief is actually caused by the unpleasantness. The unpleasantness that happened beforehand. You can’t have a relief without an unpleasantness. Not real relief. Real relief is the result of real hardships. If not for adversity we would not feel the joy of, um, it dissolving. It’s dissolvement, I should say…’ The speaker cleared his throat and picked up an empty glass.
‘OK stop. You look ridiculous now,’ I said from the back of the room. ‘Before reaching for a glass, one must be sure there’s water to drink inside it. Otherwise you look really stupid. Did you all spot that?’ The other attendees turned to me. Tired faces. ‘Did everybody see?’ They murmured, Yes. Nodded a bit. But I wasn’t convinced they’d actually noticed. In fact I was sure they hadn’t. These people are true idiots, I thought. True idiots don’t notice the proper things. ‘Do it again,’ I said.
‘Um, I could be wrong,’ said the speaker. ‘But shouldn’t it be lunchtime now?’
‘It should have been lunchtime an hour ago,’ I said. ‘Go again. See if you can make to the end. What’s your name, by the way? I’ve forgotten.’
‘Silemon,’ said the speaker. The other attendees groaned. Muffled curses.
‘Hmm,’ I said. ‘Well now, Silemon. What are we supposed to say when asked our name?’
Silemon’s face fell. ‘Wait, no. I didn’t think we were still on that stage.’
‘That stage is our third first principle,’ I said. ‘We live on our principles, that’s what keeps us upright,’ I said. ‘We’ll go again, but we have to start further back. You realise, don’t you, that I don’t want to do this? I want lunch as much as anyone. More so, probably.’
Silemon sighed. ‘OK.’
‘So,’ I said. ‘First things first. What is your name?’
Silemon closed his eyes. ‘I will tell you my name when we get to know each other better.’
‘Give!’ exclaimed a man in tweed.
