“When you sleep wake, you are not asleep?” the doctor hurriedly replied.
“What are you saying?” She hotly replied, suspecting that this vet was a quack and wondered if he also treated ducks.
“Either you are suffering from a sleep disorder or your hamster is or you both are. It is not uncommon for owners and their pets to suffer from the same malady.”
“Isn’t this all a bit too psychological? We are not exactly from the same species.”
“You and your hamster?”
“Who else would I mean?” she replied hotly.
They were both hot and a bit bothered. It was a warm July day in sunny LA and sparks were flying on the stage set. A movie, not Hollywood.
They sized each other up and knew that whatever was happening between them was much bigger than a hamster, dead or undead. The universe was signifying something of marvellous import. Kismet. Destiny. The Parking Meter.
Natasha had the metre running outside. She had taken the spot of a motorist who had left with ten unexpired minutes on the metre. In and out. Was she running from herself, her inner hamster? The thought was too terrible to bear – how good being bad is and how bad being good is: Adrift in a sea of vicious hamsters staring at her from their little matchbox daytime coffins.
He sensed her inner turmoil and saw the roiling surface of her tempestuous emotional sea. He felt afraid.
“Natasha Metropolis, you must understand the particular physiology of animals, animals that we are, I mean we are not,” he said.
She hoped he was feeling something animal for her now. She shook her practically non-existent breasts vigorously and swivelled her hips to attract the attention of his nether regions.
He had slipped, revealing, she sensed, his vulnerability, sensitivity – his openness to a woman’s touch.
She slid her hand into his wallet, feeling the smooth leather swell with excitement as she roused it to a pitch of ‘get-ready-here-it-comes’ and absconded with the funds. Perfect Harlequin Romance marketing.
He wasn’t biting but noticed her attempt. Couldn’t help but notice because of its clumsiness. Impressive. It bespoke seriousness. Dealing with a fellow shark. She might be useful. Nurse Buttkiss, whose butt he would unlikely ever butt or kiss, might be interested in her. But Buttkiss was interested in frogs. Frog-kisser looking for her prince?
It was a sore point, a laceration that had ripped open the skin of an impressionable youngster, turning to the Dark Side. He had become enamoured of the Star Wars characters and vowed vengeance on all frogs everywhere. That dark moment he had been reliving each day! Will it ever stop?
She had put more money into the meter. She was returning to clinic with her practically flat chest proudly stuck out, and dared the world to comment. Breast size isn’t everything. She knew she had the look. No man could resist her. What Lola wanted, Lola got.
