Silly Machines
By edclayton
- 555 reads
(All the writing in this set was based on dreams. For more info,
please read: 'An Explanation - 25 Dreams'.)
I'm standing in a queue of people, and although there are about five
people in front of me, it is my purchase that is being sorted out. I am
having it wrapped. I am just about to buy it.
It is an Ab-Tech, a rolling mechanism, sort of like a cage, that covers
your upper half when you lie down and you use it to do sit-ups; it
supports your neck and your back.
Well, it's being wrapped, and I look at it as various bits are being
assembled and there's something wrong with it.
I tell the men to stop, and they stop, asking what is wrong, and I
say:
"No ... It's too big."
It's in the middle of the street and it's easily the height of a bus.
Men are on ladders to reach the top. It's too big. How will I use
it?
Barry Evans comes up to the queue and offers blank audio cassettes to
no-one in particular.
"Buy one battery," he says, "get five blank D90 cassettes."
I know there is something wrong. This is Barry Evans, for Christ's
sake, but ...
I say I will take - I count on my fingers - five batteries. That means
25 cassettes. Right?
I go with Barry to his shop and - surprise surprise - it is a fuck-up.
He says he only has four cassettes left. "Sorry." And I notice they are
not blank. They are audio recordings of movies. One of them is Gone
With the Wind. It is a four-cassette audio recording, in a
clearly-marked presentation box and everything.
Barry Evans slaps his hand to his forehead. "This is a
nightmare."
And: "I've been giving those away for nothing."
And, all desperation: "What am I going to do?"
I leave him to his stupidity.
Outside, where my ab-tech is being dismantled, I am directed towards an
indoor exercise-machine store.
Inside, there are rows and rows of weird and wonderful exercise machine
in a great hall with a wooden, tiled floor like a school gym. Each item
is being used by at least one person and nothing is rooted to the floor
or the walls, although some of the machines look as though they should
be.
There are about 30 men and women all in gym gear. Pushing. Pulling.
Jumping. Lying. Squatting. Standing.
Three Indian men are exploring a machine that looks like a gigantic,
rolled carpet. One guy jumps onto it and it rolls slightly, flicking up
in such a way that he has to jump over the entire machine or struggle
to maintain his balance. He manages to jump over the machine, but it is
a fluke. He encourages the second man to have a go, an older man,
perhaps his father, but the man cannot grasp the principle. Eventually
he tries and he falls on his back.
He laughs.
I laugh.
He laughs more.
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