Session #5 with my Personal Trainer
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Not much seems to have changed.
I’m still incapable of running abound the block, doing a boy push-up, and I still lose my balance whenever Matchitehew, my trainer, looks me in the eyes.
Earlier in the day– after the moron I pay to destroy my life– had made me run until I wept, he forced me to do about a thousand calf raises, “Chipmunk, if you focus your mind on this, your tears will stop—it will calm you down and your panic will stop. “
And because I am scared of this man, I began to do the calf raises, but almost immediately, I began to see all sorts of stars and spots.
I managed to gasp this observation out, choking out the words, “is this normal?”
“It is good. It means that the toxins and weaknesses are being cast out of your body.”
“I feel all swimmy.”
“Give me ten more.”
“I think I see my Nanny. She looks so peaceful, so happy and pretty.”
At this point, dizzy and frightened, I saw four squirrels come up to where I was “working out.” They just stood there, watching, as if to drag me back to their lair when I expired.
Matchitehew, seeing the anxiety in my eyes, put his hand on my shoulder.
“Do not fear the squirrels, for they are your friends and new Spirit Guides. You are no longer a Chipmunk, but through your hard work have ascended to the ranks of a Squirrel, that is why they are here, to welcome you into your new tribe.”
As we walked back to the apartment—with two squirrels following as if a tiny protectorate—I could just make out a conversation Matchitehew was having with somebody through his Bluetooth.
“No, I am afraid the date did not go well. I fear that the on-line dating world might not be for me. It is difficult in this city to find somebody who shares the same values that I do, somebody that understands the real Matchitehew. It has been a long time since I shared intimacy with a woman.”
I had just made the training breakthrough I had long been waiting for.
Matchitehew was lonely and I would use this against him.
And so, just before he would normally make me suffer through a humiliating and painful series of girl push-ups, I began to casually talk about all the single women I knew.
In short order, while drinking chocolate milk and eating cheese, I was rewriting his Plenty of Fish profile and showing him photographs of some of my single friends.
One in particular caught his attention.
“She, the blonde in the black dress, she looks like a good spirit. “
“Yes, she has a pair of very good spirits,” I said.
I began to tell him a little bit about her but he stopped me, “No, I want to find out everything for myself,” and then he smiled, “ Squirrel, I think that the spirits have brought us together for a reason. Will you arrange a date for me and this lady?”
And then, like the wind, he was gone.