Hubble Bubble

I just don’t get it. After accepting Stephanie’s offer of some hydrotherapy for my stiff knees, Madam has gone off on one. I have tried to explain that the shoes I am required to dance in have very little cushion in the sole. I feel the impact in my knee joints particularly during the Rumba. As I am not allowed to dance in my Reeboks I have made an attempt to address the problem. Stephanie kindly offered to treat us both one evening to some hydrotherapy, an invitation that Madam has chosen to decline. Fortunately while we were having this discussion Brandi dropped round for her morning coffee, I explained my knee problem and Stephanie’s suggested course of treatment, and she kindly offered to accompany me to Guido’s and Stephanie’s for the evening as she had twinges across her back. Madam rudely remarking behind Brandi’s back that it was down to carrying two silicon footballs around on her chest all day, which set us off again. I explained in hushed tones that Brandi obviously had body issues, and was only being friendly. As my own wife was unwilling to come along for treatment I would take Brandi and introduce her to some more people, she was still a newcomer to the village after all. Madam snorted, and said that Brandi had already introduced herself to a large proportion of the village, and that if I went through with this ridiculous charade of hydrotherapy I would be sleeping in the shed.

I picked Brandi up the following evening at seven; she had obviously been practicing some new cheerleader routine as she had on her gold shorts and t-shirt with some funky plastic high heeled shoes. She explained that she was looking forward to some physio on her back, to which I concurred, explaining that my knees were particularly stiff today, startling me as she gave my knee a gentle squeeze “ Honey I just know this bit of physio is going to get your knees back in swell shape”
Arriving at Guido and Stephanie’s terraced house, Guido met us at the door still in his dancing gear, Stephanie showed us through to the garden where there was a cedar clad hydrotherapy pool. Brandi climbed in hot pants and all; I changed into my trunks and lowered myself into the far corner. The relief was instant, the warm bubbles gently caressed my aching knees, Stephanie appeared in a fetching two-piece swimsuit with a bottle of fizz. Popping the cork she climbed in beside Brandi and I. Brandi was thoroughly relaxed popping up from the bubbles to say “ We’re all friends here, anyone mind if I take a few of my duds off, it is so liberating and helps me deal with body issues” at which she flung her gold shorts and top into the nearest Japonica, a little surprised at this display, I put her behaviour down to her deep state of relaxation. Guido returned and climbed in beside us, Stephanie inquired as to the state of my knees as she topped up my glass. I replied that the hydrotherapy treatment was working a treat, thirty years of football, and two knee operations had turned my cartilage to dust. “Did you know that Guido had been a footballer, he had been on the books at Napoli for two years before being released to a life of dancing” Stephanie remarked. Honoured to be in the same bubbles as someone who had played to such a high level I pressed Guido about his career. He had been at Napoli at the same time as Maradona, and had played chiefly in the reserves featuring ten times in the first team line up before being released from his contract. Fascinated by his story I pressed him further and commented that just because a football career ends it doesn’t mean that you couldn’t find success in another field just look at Gordon Ramsey, at which point Stephanie who had been busy massaging my aching knees remarked “and Rio Ferdinand, I here he’s got a cook book out called Rio’s Sunday Roast, its full of good recipes would anyone like to try one?” I corrected Brandi saying that I was sure it was some other celebrity chef who had a book of the same title, and I was sure that Guido could be more successful in the dance world than he had been on the football field. Stephanie stopped rubbing my knees and turned her attention to Brandi’s back, Guido leapt out of the treatment area, he would love to try one of Rio’s recipes, would I like to see some mementos of his time at Napoli, while he took Stephanie and Brandi upstairs to search for Rio’s cook book. Unable to believe my good fortune and not wanting to press the point about Rio not being an author I sat down at the garden table and leafed through two years worth of a professional footballer’s life at Napoli. Guido, Stephanie and Brandi searched for Rio’s cook book upstairs for over an hour, the banging and crashing as they moved furniture in search of the non existent tome drew cries from the neighbours; the trio returning to the garden a little dishevelled but in good humour after their fruitless search.
Driving home thoroughly relaxed after our hydrotherapy treatment, I remarked to Brandi that I hoped she hadn’t hurt her back again moving furniture at Guido’s and Stephanie’s Brandi assured me that her back had never been better and that she hadn’t had treatment like that since her weekend at Hef’s place, which I can only assume is some Californian physiotherapy clinic. Returning home, I did, as expected spend the night in the shed, a night that passed better than expected after my delve through the life of an ex professional Latin footballer.