Going for a Rogering and my Fear of Quicksand
A scene with Shelly that might end up in book 6.
I go for a walk and a catch up with Shelly. We are walking uphill on the white track back to her house. Recent heavy rain has created gullies that will need to be filled soon, otherwise we won’t be able get to their house without a four-wheel drive.
“So, how was your week?”
I am about two steps behind her, and Shelly’s voice undulates for want of breath. I hear her response as “I went to Castiglione to a rogering. Have you been?”
“To Castiglione for a rogering?”
“To Roger for a cleaning? The English dentist? He’s been in Castiglione for 30 years and his 101-year-old mother lives above his clinic. His partner is his assistant.”
I am still trailing two steps behind.
“Molly likes to sit on patients while they are getting treatment. She just jumped up and Roger asked if I was okay with it. I wasn’t too sure at first.”
“Bloody hell!” are the only words my over exerted lungs can propel out while I really want to ask if Molly is his assistant or his mother.
“I think she is the same breed as your Looney, or maybe a Malteser - Is that what they are called? You know me, I’m not a dog person, but she started licking my hand. It was really comforting while I got my teeth cleaned.”
Escalators, heights and dentists are fears since childhood, along with quicksand and self combustion of course, but I’ve got over the last two. My visits to a dentist in Ireland have always included sedation, even for a cleaning. If I am to stay in Italy, I need to find a dentist I can comfortably go to. So I think I might book a rogering. With Molly, not Roger’s partner, sitting on me.
Oh god, I hadn't thought about that. When I move to Italy I have to get a new doctor, new dentist and (shudder) a new hairdresser...