There was a time when I waited for Sunday. After a week of work, and I worked hard, a day of rest was very welcome. I loved to sleep. I am not an atheist, and I go to church maybe once a year for midnight mass on Christmas eve. So I'm not a churchgoer basically. Therefore Sundays did not mean that I was seated in the pews in church listening to the pastor's sermon. The pastor, in fact, would not recognise me until my sister, who goes more often to church, introduced me as her brother after Christmas Eve mass. I also had a problem sleeping and would lie awake at nights trying desperately trying to fall asleep. I tried counting sheep and it never worked. I also tried those sleeping videos on YouTube. I listened \ and felt bored. They were not music I was familiar with and they kept my eyelids firmly apart. Even a safe tranquillizer that my doctor prescribed did not have any effect. The on...
The politician was sitting with a glum face.
"Why are you so gloomy?" I asked.
"Not much partying these days," he replied with a sigh.
"But you were thrown out of two late night parties very recently!" I exclaimed.
"Not those parties," he said shaking his head morosely.
"You mean the birthday bash of the film star?" I asked brightly.
"Don't remind me of it," he growled.
"What happened?" I asked mildly.
"My false teeth got bashed up!" he said peeved.
"Then you must have done something really wicked," I smirked.
"What's that to you?" He retorted.
"Therefore no partying," I concluded.
"I meant I am feeling lonely," He said.
"Then simply call your women friends," I said.
"Not that, I'm feeling stifled," he said.
"Choked?" I asked incredulously.
He nodded his head fervently.
"Who is choking you?" I asked surprised.
"My party," he replied.
"What's wrong with it?" I asked.
"Nothing wrong, I was just thinking of horse trading," he replied.
"You trade horses on the side?" I asked taken aback.
"Not much trade these days," the politician replied sadly, "They have horse sense you know and I can't party with a horse! I don't know whose election symbol it might be!"
"Do they have horses or fillies in the contest?" I asked wanting to be illuminated.
"It's the ass that will win," he replied crisply.
"You needn't use bad words," I said chiding him.
"I was just feeling suffocated," he said.
"Get an air conditioner then," I suggested.
"It might not make such a good election symbol," he said thoughtfully, "I want something symbolic."
"What kind of symbols to do you have in mind?" I asked.
"$ £ $ £ $ £ $ £ $ £ $ £ $ £ $ £," he replied his eyes lighting up.
"Stop!" I exclaimed, "You are getting to be monotonous," I said rebuking him.
"I can buy plenty of horses with $ £," he remarked.
"You should switch to Euro," I suggested.
"How do you know about my Swiss account?" he asked suspiciously.
"Is that from the horse's mouth?" I smiled knowingly, "What about income tax?"
"You can't tax horses, you know," he smirked.
"You mean only the ass pays income tax!"
"That's from the horse's mouth!"
"Did you count its teeth?" I asked.
"You shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, that's impolite," he replied reprovingly.
"Why?" I asked amazed.
"You might notice how many false teeth it has," he said informatively.
"Does he use his false teeth to whistle at women?" I asked.
"That's how he calls willing mares," the politician winked, "There are plenty of mares if you know where to look."
"I can't go looking for the mares," I protested, "I'm not a horse! I can't make an ass of myself!"
"That's why you're still a bachelor," he pointed out.
"But what can I do?" I asked peevishly.
"You can butt your head against a lamp post, it will knock some sense into you," he replied drily.
"My head doesn't have a butt," I protested.
"Maybe your butt has grown a head," he remarked wryly.
"Things are coming to a head," I said cleverly.
"It's party time?" asked the politician brightly, "then bring on the horses, asses and lasses!"
"But you don't have any horse sense!" I exclaimed.
"They don't ask politicians for their academic records," he sniffed.
"Are you going to party with horses, asses and lasses?" I asked surprised.
"The lasses first," he said eagerly.
"
What about and horses and asses?"
"They can have their own party and their own electorate," he replied with a shrug.
"What if the asses indulge in horse-trading?" I asked darkly.
"Then their stock will go up," he replied smugly.
"What if you get caught with your pants down?" I queried.
"I don't believe in speaking metaphorically," he replied.
"But what if you do?" I insisted.
"I have my underwear and my lawyer," he snapped back.
"But you can't wear underwear in public!" I exclaimed.
"It might become a fashion you know," he replied, "haven't you seen hemlines rising and necklines plunging?"
"I don't look at necklines and hemlines," I said stiffly.
"Then what do you look at?" he asked plainly astonished.
"The glory of sunrise and the sunset," I replied proudly.
"Are you in your sunset years?" he asked scratching his head.
"Certainly not, I am still skinny dipping in the Fountain of Youth!"
"You must be gaga," he said laughing his head off.
"I haven't heard of Gaga," I replied.
"You don't need to, just listen to the lamp post," he suggested.
"What for?" I asked surprised.
"They sing at night," he replied.
"Oh!" I ejaculated.
"They compete with the kettle when it is singing," he pointed out.
"They would make a great orchestra," I said admiringly.
"Yes if you added the pots and pans," he replied.
"You should have an orchestra playing before you address your audience," I said.
"The voters like facing the music," he said happily.
"Because they lack horse sense?" I asked.
"You can ask the ass that when he parties with the horse," the politician said chuckling.
"How many pegs do they drink?" I asked interestedly.
"They drink kegs, not pegs," he barked.
"A whole barrel?" I asked amazed.
"Then they go out to the party," the politician replied.
"But they can't watch where they are going," I remarked.
"Oh! They just barrel along," he said.
"To late night parties?" I asked.
"For party meetings," he corrected.
"But how effective will they be if they are stoned?"
"They stone the crows," he said.
"That's not done, the crows might mind," I pointed out.
"Anything goes at a party," he snickered.
"I don't party," I told him honestly.
"Then you can join my party," he suggested.
"I don't like late night ones?" I said.
"Sometimes, when we burn the midnight oil before elections, it might get late," the politician replied.
"You don't use electricity?" I asked amazed.
"Politics predate the discovery of electricity by light years," he said informatively.
"Even in the Dark Ages?" I asked wonderingly.
"Ever since Eve gave Adam that rotten apple," he said.
"That was politics?" I asked taken aback.
"Certainly, it gave her a whole world of opportunity instead of being stuck in the apple orchard in Eden," he replied.
"Did they party?" I asked genuinely interested.
"Yes after they got the divine boot," he said.
"Which party is that?" I questioned.
"The one with lasses, asses and horses," he said making his exit.
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