So I fasted

She was supposed to be a new and temporary guest, friend of a relative’s best friend’s sister, visiting town from the old country. Turns out, she was a ponce.

She would ask in pitiful, victim-rich tones that I lend her 20p because she didn’t have enough for a burger. Buy economy beans and an economy loaf of bread, I would tell her. She wanted the burger.

She was an ex-junkie come over to find an easy way to stay afloat, and straight away she met a disabled man on a wheelchair who used to run a pub, but then snapped his back falling down from a height while drunk, as he tried to gain access to his flat after losing his keys. He was well off. He used to inject his dick with something to make it stay up, but didn’t feel anything during sex. They were a match.

She was actually a massage therapist, tuina, and read the tarot pretty well. I helped her out filling forms, signing her up for insurance so that she could start working with her massage skills. She didn’t speak the lingo enough though, so I signed her up in school. At that time I used to think that everyone was worthy of my time and dedicated effort.

She was stingy in offering something in return, but I did get a tarot reading, which was embarrassingly, painfully accurate, exposing me as somewhat of a fabricator of misfortunes (and possibly more), and a very relaxing Chinese massage, so relaxing in fact that when I looked at myself in the mirror after she finished I looked different, as if all of my facial features had dropped an inch with rest. Maybe we were even, and I was being grabby, always feeling short changed by life.

She told me that in order to lose weight all I needed to do was fast for one day a week, in synch with the moon phases. So whenever the moon was at quarters, full and black, at the exact times of raising and setting I would have to cut out all food, and drink plenty of water. Herbal teas, no sugar allowed, but nothing else until the moon set. It worked.

I ended up cutting her out. She knew too much, and I was very busy trying to fool myself and manipulating things in self-destructive ways. And her constant mooching was intensely irritating, especially when she had the wealthy wheelchair guy who took care of her. Maybe I was envious of that, all I could find were hot tramps who would bleed me dry. I cut myself out, really, from the blissful massages and tarot readings.

But the fasting advice, which had worked so well, was part of my treasured knowledge now. That part of the acquaintance would make the cut.