Tuesday, March 2, 2010

The Stepford Boodwah

Chuck’s detailed and intricate diary entries describe Madame Boodwah’s disappearance from the airwaves and her time at a leading sanatorium.

Returning home from visiting Boodwah, Chuck’s spirits were lifted by his friend’s improvement. It filled Chuck with hope that Madame Boodwah could pull herself up from the depths of despair and reclaim the life she once had – socialite, trendsetter, fashionista and role model for women the world over.

Chuck’s visit had clearly jolted something in Boodwah as she commenced writing letters to Chuck on a daily basis detailing day to day goings on at the sanatorium, her innermost feelings and general musings. Boodwah’s letters were free flowing stream of conscious that often ran 8 pages in length.  Boodwah was so verbose that on some occasions she sent two letters per day.  Chuck was mindful that she was going through a healing process, as some of her messages were a tad inconsistent. A snippet of her writings:

Chuck, as I walk through the compound here, I don’t see the barbed wire and armed guards, instead I see the beautiful blue sky and the ocean in the distance and I long to be in my BMW convertible with the top down and my hair flowing in the wind…

I’m so horny I could hump a park bench….

The warm breeze against my skin reminds me of Barcelona in the summer of 98’. A glass of rich red wine, delicious and plentiful food and my tongue running over Enrique’s rock hard pectoral muscles…..

The gentleman who picks up the laundry made eyes at me today and I had to fight every urge in my body not to have my way with him. I was fortunate to be wearing my cursed oven mitts and Hannibal Lector mask at the time which definitely helped my cause…..

As you can see from the above examples, Boodwah was far from healed, but making progress.

December 15th, 2009

I was making preparations for my weekly visit to see Madame Boodwah – gathering a selection of fresh cut flowers; packing a fully stocked makeup bag and arranging newly purchased couture when I received a call from Dr Clark.

“Chuck, we’ve had a fantastic breakthrough with Madame Boodwah this week and I’m afraid that I’ll need to ask you to stay away so that we can maintain this intense course of treatment and continue on the upward path,” the doctor said.

“Of course, I am so pleased to hear that she is doing so well. When do you think I can next vis…?”


The phone went dead before I could finish my sentence. I dialled the sanatorium number to pick up where I left off with Dr Clark only to be met with a busy signal. I waited 30 minutes and tried again with the same result. I waited another hour before resigning myself to the fact that perhaps an electrical storm had caused a blackout.

December 16th, 2009

The phone was engaged all day

December 17th, 2009

See above

Chuck tried calling all week to no avail. The phone line was dead. While seeming somewhat odd, Chuck decided to cast it from thought since Boodwah was in a treatment facility and she was making great progress.

Finally with no contact for two weeks, Chuck decided to drive up to visit Madame Boodwah and provide a l0ittle Christmas cheer at a time when everyone needs a familiar face.

December 25th, 2009

Driving up to the sanatorium I was excited to see the healing that my friend had undertaken. I reflected on some of my favourite Madame Boodwah moments:

Impromptu ballroom dancing with Prince Charles at a state function where she dazzled onlookers as she confidently sashayed across the dance floor looking like a true princess.

The numerous occasions at Sydney’s hottest celebrity haunts where she took a young and troubled starlet under her wing and provided much needed support and advice while reapplying makeup and wiping away the cocaine residue from under their nostrils

Having one of Hollywoods most eligible bachelor’s proposition her for over 3 hours, culminating with him offering to buy her a chateau at lake Cuomo in Italy to no avail as Boodwah didn’t like that he was wearing a navy blue suit with a black shirt – “its fashion suicide darling” she stated in the limo after the function, “ I could never be with such a tragic dresser!”

I pulled into the facility and parked. As I was retrieving the flowers and gifts   I had brought for Boodwah I was over powered by a strong and exotic fragrance. I turned to see a radiant Madame Boodwah in full cocktail dress with her blonde hair shining and swept up into a bun. Her skin was glowing and she exuded confidence and happiness.

I smiled as she walked towards me.

“Chuck darling” she purred.

Before she could offer her traditional two cheek greeting kiss, Dr Clark appeared out of nowhere, reached into his pocket, burrowed around and somehow corralled her as if by remote control. In Madame Boodwah’s prime, no man would ever stop her from doing what she wanted to do but on this occasion, one stern glance from Dr Clark and some rummaging in his pocket wiped all trace of confidence from her face, stopping her in her tracks.

I made an advance towards my friend only for Dr Clark to block my path and in a most unpleasant tone ask, “what on earth are you doing here unannounced?”

“Well since the phone has been dead for the last two weeks and as it is Christmas, I thought I would stop by and say hello” I retorted.

The Dr stiffened and attempted to compose himself, “Chuck, I apologise for my tone, but your presence could severely impact Madame Boodwah’s progress”

“You can hardly blame me for wanting to see my friend, especially since it looks like she has come so far” I said.

“I can appreciate that, but in this instance I must ask you to leave immediately” the Doctor delivered bluntly.

I look up at Madame Boodwah who now had a blank look on her face and registered no recognition of my plight, I offered the flowers to the doctor who refused them, then got in my car and left.

As I slowly rolled down the driveway, I checked my rear-view mirror to see Dr Clark place his hand on the small of Madame Boodwah’s back. At that moment he glance back at me and registered a sly smile. I was sure that he did not see me looking in the mirror, but I immediately noted that something was amiss and that it was up to me to do something about it.

To be continued

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