I drug myself out of rehab–the kind you go to for sports injuries–and back down Wade Hampton Boulevard yesterday and reported for torture. The Queen of Pain was AWOL, and in her place was Jenny. Y’all remember a while back I told you about Jenny-the-cutest-little-thing?
I knew it was only a matter of time before sweet Jenny morphed into alien Jenny. She has all the right equipment–she’s beautiful, skinny, and can dance like a maniac for an hour without breaking a sweat. And, of course, she was trained by the QOP herself.
Alien Jenny is the closest thing to a Casey-clone that we’ll likely ever see. She put a hurting on me that the QOP would have been proud of. I was into the blue (the section of the exertion chart that’s not actually a part of the chart, but the top border) by song number two. The thing about Jenny is that, while definitely an alien, she’s still sweet. The sweetness oozes out of her while she’s killing you–it’s bizarre, actually. It’s like she’s Casey before somebody gave her the intravenous sarcasm–which, by the way is one of the things I like best about Casey–I don’t mean that ugly. She makes me laugh. And trust me, when you are being bent, folded and mutilated by Casey, you need something to laugh about.
Yesterday, as I was sweating like a Charleston roofer in August, hair all in my eyes, mouth hanging open, face squinched in agony as Jenny pushed me toward a cardiac episode, she smiled serenely, looked out across the class and said, “You look awesome!”I can only guess the rest of them must have looked better than me. I still don’t know how she said it with a straight face with me right there on the front row.
Hmmm… Maybe…maybe sweet Jenny isn’t as sweet as she looks. Maybe she’s just as sarcastic as Casey, but sneaky about it. You know, like those women whose mouths won’t melt butter when they say, “How niiiiice,” but you know what they really mean is something no Southern lady would ever say out loud.
She bears watching, our Jenny. She may be a new breed of alien.
I’ve gotten two classes in this week…I’m doing better. Maybe in the morning I’ll drop in on the caring and nurturing one. If I’m out of traction.