I don`t get it. I really don`t.
They tell you to keep clear.
Never, ever, use it, they plead.
Leave your MasterCard alone!
They wave it in front of you, nodding their head.
They stare at you and stamp their feet.
Cut it in half, they shout.
Burn it up, they scream.
As far as I`m concerned, my MasterCard is my new man. He`s the one that fixes everything. He is my beloved. He`s the one I can ask a favour, if I really need to. And he`ll always say yes. He`ll help at any given moment.
Also, he`s the one that treats.
He takes me out.
He makes sure I have what I need.
He never runs out of money.
Obviously, I always pay him back. When I borrow, I mean. That`s why I added the new man. If I were to have an old man, not literally (but then, too, obviously), but one I`d had for a while. Then, I`m not sure whether I would pay back.
It`s not given.
Throughout life, it would even out, wouldn`t it? Mine was his, and not least, his was mine. Even if I`d wanted to pay him back, he would have put a stop to it. I vision it. I vision that if some kind of crisis came about. If I found myself in a situation where my MasterCard really was considered. Then, he wouldn`t allowed me anyway. Without any hassle, and as the most natural thing, he would have found his card.
He would have laid it in front of me.
Looking at me, mouth closed.
Then, he would have closed his eyes, while slowly nodding his head.
No words necessary.
The lord had spoken.
However, the new man. He should always be treated with cautiousness and care. As a ground rule, you should avoid him having any knowledge about your economics at all.
There`s nothing sexy about bad economy.
There`s nothing sexy about grown women, and hand- to- mouth existence.
Although, if you would ever face real hardship. If you were cornered, and didn`t have the slightest idea how to get by. If he miraculously found out, and then wanted to help. If he pleaded to let him help you. If he begged on his knees to allow him to come to your rescue. If he sat on the floor, all teared up. Given that he, in fact, was unable to sleep until he could assist his one and only. Contribute. Salvage and save. If, and only if, he got devoured and completely devastated by the thought of his lover`s misery. Then, and only then, could you consider accepting his offer.
Clearly, you would have paid him back.
At the very least. Because, whereas your MasterCard takes interest rate, you would provide your new guy both homemade- meals and plenty of sex. Rather voluntarily, as well. There wouldn`t be any all -right- then sex, at all. No headaches or sore knees. No soles sold. On the contrary, I`d say.
Without question, there`s nothing more attractive than a willing man.
A helpful man.
How irresistible isn`t it with a man who would perish altogether, if he couldn`t make sacrifices for his chosen one. A man whose whole existence, and happiness, fully relied on whether his woman was happy and content. Whether she was safe. Cared for. Whether she had a proper washing machine. Proper teeth. Whether she could wear the latest fashion trends. Go on holidays. Have prospects.
This wonderful man would have looked upon this as his calling. Taking care of this delicate creature, to him, would be a true blessing. This individual, which gave his life such purpose in life. He would have done all this because it was the only way.
And she would love him.
She would cherish him.
She`d make meatballs.
She`d make cakes.
She`d get on her back.
She`d make it crystal- clear that good behaviour is appreciated.
She`d present clear- cut evidence, showing that good behaviour, in fact, is rewarded.
That`s crucial when it comes to relationships.
My precious MasterCard took care of last summer. In lack of any willing men, it presented itself to me, every time I was in the grocery store paying. Paying with my Visa- card. The blue plastic kind, which now and then, and one too many times, gets empty. Well, the golden one really presented itself to me. Laying there. So close to Mr Visa.
I couldn`t misunderstand, even if I`d tried.
So, I swung my card.
My golden one.
For Spain.
Granca.
Two whole weeks.
Best decision ever.
You wanna live a little
You can`t pay bills all day long
It was my friend`s idea. Since she now was a student again, and I was stuck in back- rehab- land, we had the opportunity. Even the public welfare system wanted me to go.
We want you to go, they said.
Therefore, with the proper permissions, travel- companions and a will to live, a wish for adventure; it would be sad answering;
Oh, shoot, my card`s empty.
When I had paid the contractors the previous week, I sure didn`t know the opportunity of a lifetime would come knocking on my door so soon.
There was no getting around it.
The golden shimmer made the arrangements.
The 3×2 plastic- thingy.
Best invention ever.
And not nearly as bad as you might think. I had the best trip you could ever imagine. Two whole weeks spent by the riverside (so to speak). Books, great company and with a yellow fella, far up.
I was in heaven.
Still, I`m living on the memories. Like a solid vitamin B12- injection, they are deeply absorbed.
What else could I possibly have done? What else was there to say?
“Bugger! My card`s empty. Such an inconvenience».
Or;
« Surely, I`d go. But next year looks promising, though. Probably during high- season. When you are back working, and the children are with me. When there`s summer break, and there`s children with certain expectations. Then probably. That might be the perfect time to leave. A perfect time for a getaway with the girls. Who knows, there might even be some money left. I can`t imagine this being a problem at all. Surely, this could be a thing”.
Timing is everything.
That was it then. It was granca, for two whole weeks.
On timing is everything.
My new guy took care of it. He`s a real catch, this one. A real catch.
This way, I actually get my fair share of granca each day. The party is over, and it`s time to pay. Thank God. Yesterday, for instance, I paid for three Cosmopolitans. They kind of represent the one I had, the very first day. You might say I get triple instead, and honestly, that makes me quite happy. Today I`m being charged for all the sunscreens. The ones with the Aloe Vera. Really nice ones, I must say. Tomorrow, I`ll pay for the candy. Those soft, lovely dinguses. Come to think of it, it might have been my best investment that year. I have no regrets.
Definitely, it feels nice to drag it along. Scatter the goods throughout the year. A sunscreen here. A drink there. Next week we have the Aqua- land arrangements, and it`s really not an issue at all. I look back on that day with real fondness. That day sure proofs that there`s some youth left in us. We wanted to go on water slides. We wanted to slide down, surrounded by ice- cold water. Moreover, we wanted to queue up, in order to do so. Quite impressive actually. Especially given the fact that we`re all in our mid-30s. Although, personally I couldn`t do this at all. My back wouldn`t have handled it. Therefore, instead of sliding, I had to settle for the spectator seat. I was sitting in the squatting position, taking pictures, while my friends rushed down all kinds of colourful plastic.
Since I didn`t fully participate in the physically challenging activities, I turned to coffee and ice cream. From a squatting pose, down on the asphalt, I ordered stuff like crazy. I was an eight- year- old with her own wallet. I was an eight- year- old with questionable taste.
Ice cream and coffee
Coffee and ice cream
Coffee with ice cream
Ice- cream with coffee-flavour
The newsstand- lady got grumpier each time. I really can`t understand why. It was a simple order. Basically gas- station- latte, and ice pops. There were no soft- ice with curlicues.
Curlicues, which must not fall off!
Curlicues, which (always) falls off!
There were no children who couldn`t make up their mind, either. No one who desperately looked for the ketchup. There were nobody knocking on her glass cage eight times, because they still couldn`t find the canned tomatoes. But she had to get up! She had to move her ass, in order to hear me down there. She had to squeeze her head between the window- gap, and look down. Possibly, she felt irritated by the look of a grown woman in a squat. She might have jumped to the conclusion that I had become lazy on holiday. I really don`t know.
Either way, I only have good memories to look back on. I ate, drank and took pictures all day. I even shot pictures of sea lions. Out of water. Under water. People and sea lions, cuddling up. Out of water. Under water. People in slides. People swimming. People below trees. Next to trees. Behind trees. Nothing too demanding, though. A happy life, I`d say. Consequently, next week, when I`m at the store with a couple of afternoon- youngsters, it`s nice to look back. So, when the instalments for Aqua- land is due Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, I`ll just be;
Hell, yeah. Obviously. It feels like yesterday.
A great day, indeed
Great, great
Great, great, great
Then, there was this party at the Scandinavian Bar. Where the bartender flirted profoundly, exclusively based on his five, fully rehearsed Norwegian sentences. The bar where we got full access to the sound equipment. The place wasn`t completely packed, I guess. That`s probably why we were in charge of the music altogether. However, it got pricy. With just one man in the bar- area (behind the bar), both the MasterCard and the blender were working it. Such a nice evening, though. There were karaoke, and there were different versions of solo dances and couples dances, too. It was like hiring your own club, without guests. It was like slumber party, with stilettoes. I haven`t had so much fun since the 90s.
I`m definitely paying this
next week
Holidays are so much fun. There`s something about crossing borders. The local ones and the international ones. Besides, there are something about heated sunscreens and Sangria which you don`t want to underestimate. There`s some definite chemical ingredients internally. Definitely the icing on the cake. It`s like chocolate cake with chocolate cream. On top. Under. Behind, and next to. When you, on top of that, have Ronaldo behind your back, sand between your toes and ABBAs “Dancing Queen” surrounding you, from all over, you know you`re south of southeast.
Sometimes you just need to escape southeast.
Sometimes you just need to be south of southeast.
There`s nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing to be concerned about. Once in a while, you need to treat yourself. Once in a while you need some good old spanish. It would be a pity not doing so. You should listen to your body. Take it seriously, they say.
I always make sure I do.
So, yes. There might have been less luxury when I got back. Mum`s finances might have gone overboard. Perhaps there were some pasta- with-ketchup- meals the following weeks. Nonetheless, I think we managed just fine. We got through. All I did was melting some vitamin- bears, fish oil- fishes, and some lions.
Stir them together, and into the ketchup they go!
My kids sure kept those healthy, red cheeks, easy as pie.
And the mother. She was now possessing red cheeks, brown cheeks and freckles. She hid Mr golden one behind a stack of old books, and she melted some animals herself. But she was far from sad. Quite the opposite, I`d say. She was proud. She was proud, because she had taken notice. She had discovered that she needed spanish. She felt the urge to be south of southeast. Not only did she feel these things. She had gone through with it. She had taken action. She had made sacrifices.
As the responsible lady she was, she had done the only right thing.
She had gone to granca, because it was what was needed.
She`d gone to granca on timing is everything
Best decision ever.