John D Rockefeller said “I have tried to turn every disaster into an opportunity.” So I tried yesterday to overcome the disaster of losing our dream apartment by buying a car.
“Wouldn’t a dress do the trick?” suggested the charming man who is going to rent our house in France.
Not compared with a red convertible Porsche with leather seats. Sadly the fantasy lasted about five minutes. I can just about get away with a four-seater (it’s mainly just me or just me and the children I drive around) but the only Porsches I can afford have only two seats. And although I am willing to squeeze the five of us into a two-bedroom apartment if I need to, three children in one car seat is probably pushing it, even if it is leather.
So instead of Porsche-buying I went Pole dancing. Yes, Abu Dhabi may seem like an unlikely place to learn to gyrate around a metal pole, but there are classes here (diplomatically called Vertical Flex) and as it is something I have always wanted to try (don’t pretend you haven’t as well, if you’re female that is) I went along.
It was great. Once I got the hang (pardon the pun) of actually swinging around the pole without falling off I totally loved it and am going back for more next week. Assuming I can move that is. One of the reasons people swear by pole dancing is that it is such good exercise. I can vouch for that. Today my arms are a shaking shadow of their former selves. I could barely lift them to brush my teeth this morning. But at least the pain has taken my mind off the lack of housing. And I didn’t even need to buy a Porsche.
I can now save that for when the next flat falls through. If the global meltdown continues, they’ll be even cheaper by then.
Copyright: Helena Frith Powell 2008