*      *      *

“Well, so much for that,” said Pat Patterson as the three women left the craft room at the tail of the herd of exiting women.

“I haven’t been so bored since I accidentally turned the TV to an Aussie Democrats policy speech during the lead up to the last federal election,” said Norma.

“I know what you mean,” agreed Debbie.

The three women walked single file through the scenic walk, back toward the front of the building.

“Look at this one,” said Pat.   She stopped in front of a canvass, which contained inane splashes of vivid red, orange, green, and blue.   “I wonder what it’s called?”

“Vomit by Pablo Picasso,” suggested Norma.

“What say we all go around to my place to drown our sorrows in a sea of Baccardi and coke?” suggested Debbie, as they stepped out into the reception room.

“You can tell that she’s been inspired by navigating the scenic walk twice in one days,” said Pat.

“Count me out,” said Norma.   “I have to get home in case poor Jack gets home to an empty house.”

“Yes, we can’t have him waiting upon himself,” said Debbie.   “That’s woman’s work.”   She laughed, then put an arm around Pat’s shoulders and said, “Well, it looks like it’s just you and me, kid.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to your laundry?” asked Pat.

“Don’t nag me, kid,” said Debbie, giving Pat a pat on the backside.   “We’re not married you know.”   To Norma she said, “Actually we’re just good friends.”

*      *      *

A Week Later

“Well, what did you learn today?” asked Norma, placing her handbag on top of the kitchen table.

The three women, Norma, Debbie Williams, and Patricia Patterson, had just returned from their latest leatherwork class.

Norma felt the side of the electric kettle for warmth, Pat and Debbie slumped, exhausted onto two metal-framed chairs at the table, and Norma filled the kettle from the hot water tap, and then took cups and saucers from a cupboard above the sink.

“What did I learn today?” echoed Debbie, “Well, I learnt what a pain in the arse certain people can be.”

“Yeah,” agreed Pat.   “Particularly leather work teachers who never get off the phone long enough to teach you anything.”

“I’m thinking of making a leather strap, to use upon her, next lesson,” said Debbie.   “Maybe that will help her to get a bit motivated.”

“Kinky baby,” said Pat, “but nice.”

“Well, I don’t know about you two,” said Norma, “but I learnt a valuable lesson today.   Namely how tiring it can be to stand on the one spot, without moving, for an hour.”

“Agreed,” said Debbie.

Norma started ferreting around in the drawers under the sink.   After a moment she said, “Damn, where is it?”

“Have you lost something?” asked Debbie.

“Yeah, I can’t find our tin-opener.”

“Will this do?” asked Pat.   She reached into her large handbag and took out a pointed chisel.

“Where did you get that?” asked Norma, taking it from her.

“I flogged it from the leather work class,” said Pat.

“You are a naughty girl,” said Debbie, giving her a playful spank on the behind.

“Well, I figured we had to get something back for all the money we’ve paid.   Since no one’s actually teaching us anything,” said Pat.

“Thanks,” said Norma, laughing.

THE END

© Copyright 2011

Philip Roberts, Melbourne, Australia