Updated: Nov 22, 2018
I only do boxes when it comes to chocolate and along with a good book I am in heaven.
But when it comes to writing I steer clear, sitting all morning writing is hard on the body and the only thing to do is drink lots of water, tea and and for me a new day job as a carer that will keep me moving.
The other day I was training for my ‘day job’ - moving and handling they call it although there is not much handling -more moving with equipment, and I saw an idea for a comic short story about training for other more adult professions.
The instructor was a mature woman with a no nonsense air about her; a woman who with a masterly flick slid her latex gloves on and motioned us to follow.
‘We are encouraged to take care of our backs, and hygiene within a limited time,’ she glanced over her bifocals. ‘And this little baby is going to make it happen.’
My sweaty fingers pushed and slid against the powered latex as the instructor dramatic pulled the cover from her baby, ‘behold the hoist.’
We stared at mechanical praying mantis with straps flapping from every orifice as a girl from the back with a final loud flick pulled her gloves on.
‘That moves people?’ I said.
‘Up to and including pounds in triple figures,’ she sighed. ‘Now who’s first?’
The room was silent.
We were flipped, lifted, wrapped and manipulated as we obediently agreed to her every whim. This granny in jeans had dominance with a large D...and she didn’t shout once.
‘I want you to experience what it’s like to have no control, to swing in mid air and feel more than the wind beneath your feet,’ she chuckled at her wit as I sucked in my breath. She was wrapping a strap around me so close that I could smell her morning nescafe.
‘This is what not to do?’
‘And this..oh sorry, does it hurt?’
What do you think?
‘Do you feel safe?’
And before I could answer I was upside down and beginning to enjoy it...
The session ended to the clatter of a tea trolley and her baby; after a swipe of a baby wipe, folded, oiled and covered. She paused as I stood by the trolley like a drunk tossed overboard and fished out, and smiled as I took my tea with a shaky hand.
Finally she offered me a chocolate.
‘Sweet tooth,’ she said.
I looked at her.
‘Sugar for shock, caffeine for a pick me up and chocolate for pleasure,’ she motioned to the packet, ‘take a couple you’ve earned and' she laughed, 'one is never enough... ‘