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THE ASTROMATES... Part Two. THE ASTROMATES... Part Two. He had me. My head had popped out of the basket. He had played a tune on his flute and I had swayed like a Cobra to his music. "It’s all quite simple really," began Alex. "A little while ago I started up a dating agency called ‘Astromates’. It’s based on Synastry." "What’s Synastry? Some kind of Eastern mysticism?" I asked. "Synastry, my dear chap, is when one compares two Birth-Charts, a man’s and a woman’s, to see if they are compatible. It’s all the rage in India and the Far-East, I believe." I shook my head. "Nope, I didn’t understand a word of what you’ve just said, Alex." "Don’t worry about it just now, there’s a good chap," said Alex. "It’s far too complex to explain in one sitting. Maybe someday, when your brain evolves, grows enough to grasp simple things.” Sometimes Alex could be so facetious, act so superior, I wondered why I ever bothered. "But there’s dating agencies everywhere," I said moodily. "It’s all old-hat. You can find those agencies in any old rag." Alex went over to a grey filing cabinet in the corner. I hadn’t noticed it before; it seemed to melt into the greyness of the room. "There." he said, coming back and laying an opened newspaper down in front of me. "Read me one of the ads from that." he demanded. "Male wanted. N/S. GSOH. W/S. SOLVENT. Etc.”…. I began. Alex took the paper away from me and tossed it into the opposite corner. "Now tell me what that means?" "Aint got a clue." I confessed. "See what I mean about the dating game? You have to be bloody-well versed in Esperanto to understand some of the lingo. Its rubbish, isn’t it?" Not being versed in Esperanto, not even a pittance of Pitman’s Shorthand, I nodded my head to show Alex I agreed with him. He smiled, a Wolf’s smile, wandering round the office, rubbing bony hands. "You’ve got to be different, have some kind of hook, haven’t you?" He stopped in front of me, staring down. "Now Astromates is a very different matter," he carried on, "Most women, and a lot of men, come to that, are interested in their stars. Can you tell me, honestly, you’ve never had a peep at what your stars say in the daily newspaper?" I shrugged sheepishly. What man would admit to such a thing! "Of course you have, old chap," Alex affirmed, patting me gently on the shoulder, before carrying on, "But newspapers only give out what are known as ‘Solar-Scopes’, just generalities according to ones’ Sun-Sign. They cannot be taken seriously. Let’s face it, out of two million Leo readers, the paper might get it near enough correct for two of them. That goes for all Sun-Sign predictions." Alex regained his seat, spreading out his hands before continuing. "Astrology, on the other hand, is a far more personal thing; it’s a one-to-one on thing, a science, with rules and regulations, dealing with a myriad of details." He paused, bated breath. "Oh, I see," I said, enlightened, "It’s a new-age thing." "Wrong, my friend. Wrong." protested Alex. "Astrology is an old-world science, developed by the ancients long before Jesus ever arrived on the scene. It deals with times, dates, planetary systems, aspects and angles. You name it and Astrology gives you the answers." I watched his face, alive with excitement as he talked, like some old Merlin bewitching an assistant. Mind you, I still didn’t have a clue what he was on about. "Where did you get all this from?" I asked. "You know you haven’t seen me around for the last couple of years?" he said. I nodded, a very satisfying time in my life.. Well," he continued, "I spent that time banged up in Wandsworth Nick, (He grimaced at the memory.), for fraud and a matter of unpaid fines, you know, the usual stuff." he admitted, on seeing my upraised eyebrow. "And here’s me thinking you’d gone abroad to work with the poor and starving." Alex wagged a finger at my sarcasm. "As I was saying," he went on, "I was incarcerated in Wandsworth Prison. Well, you know me, old chap, I’m not the kind who lays on a bunk reading cowboy books like the rest of the low-life's. I decided to find something which would pay me when I got out, which led me to Astrology. Do you know," he continued, "Those prison libraries are wonderful avenues for those who want to get on in life, wonderful places. D’you know what? Any , who can’t afford a college place, doesn’t need to borrow money from a bank. All the has to do is chuck a brick through a police-station window and ‘Voila!’… A little stretch inside and there’s all kinds of courses open to him… Wonderful places." he finished, his mind dwelling on the past, back among the bookshelves. "Okay," I said, putting a stop to his reminiscences, "So you studied the magic art. What has that got to do with me and twelve bits of shag?" Alex still had half a mind on the prison library, tutting loudly at my interruption. Sighing, he brought his eyes down from the clouds and back to business. "Well, as I said, I studied, and when I got out I started up this little business. I do a few horoscopes, preferably home visits, for interested parties." Looking round the grotty office, I could see why Alex preferred visiting rather than being visited. Even the cockroaches… "Are you listening?" demanded Alex. I straightened up; mouth tight, eyes bright, signalling attention. "Good. Now, one or two charts a week doesn’t even begin to cover the rent." I tried not to smile. Who would have the nerve to charge rent for this dump. Keeping a straight face, I let him continue. "Then I had the brilliant idea of starting up this dating agency… Astromates." He stared back up at the ceiling, watching clouds roll by. "So?" My question brought him down to earth. "So I placed a couple of ‘ads’ in the local rags, stating that lonely people could find their true soul-mates through Synastry." Saying that, Alex opened the desk drawer, pulling out a copy of the advert. "Read it." he ordered, throwing it across as he continued to extol the virtues and merits of Synastry, as if I was in need of a soul-mate. Some of what he said made sense to me; the rest just flew over my head. I sat and let him ramble on, patiently waiting till he got to the bit about my promised shags. Well, I mean, it did have to come in the end, didn’t it? "My agency got a bit of work coming in," carried on Alex, oblivious to my seat squirming, "Especially from the ladies… And therein lies the snag. The fact is, only two men ‘phoned up to join, well there were four actually. But one was gay and wanted another male for a soul-mate. Another was a bloody Tax-Inspector, after my blood. And you just heard earlier, one of the other two, Anthony, happens to be married. So you see, plenty of females but a little short on men." Ah, I thought, here comes the fly in the ointment. "So you expect me to become the next twelve Astrodates?" Alex held up his hand to stop me from exploding. "Its true," he said, "There is a shortage. I’ve even been out on a couple of dates myself. (He shuddered before carrying on)… Some bloody horrors out there, I can tell you." "And you expect me to take your place; are you insane?" "I have no intention of asking you to go out on dates in that sense." Alex assured me. "Okay then, Alex. Spit it out." "I began to realise that even my dating agency brought little rewards and required a lot of effort. So I began to look round for an angle whereby all my talents and knowledge could be put to use, earning, in its wake, justifiable income and even a modicum of fame." There were his eyes, ‘Wolfing’ me down again. "You have my undivided attention." I assured him. Alex considered the ceiling before drifting into conversation. "Have you ever been into a book-shop and wandered your eyes along the shelves?" "What, the top lot? The Porno's?" "Now you're being flippant. What I mean is most of the shelves are chock-a-block with books written by women, about love and how to catch the right man. It seemed to me, all those women Authors write in such a way as to suggest men are like animals who need to be trained. Do you know," he began to rant, "I’ve read articles like, ‘Men who wear braces must have big balls’, and, ‘Do moustaches get in the way of foreplay?’ that sort of thing." I must admit I’ve never come across books with articles such as that but I caught the drift. Women did seem to have the monopoly when it came to writing about what was wrong with the men of this world, and how to change them. "So, what are you suggesting?” I asked. "I’m suggesting there’s some money to be made from this trusty machine." said Alex, lovingly stroking the typewriter. He went on, "What women can do, so can men, it’s a world of equal opportunity.” "And Sexism," I reminded him, "It’s okay for a woman to insult the nether regions of men by suggesting that men with big balls need braces to hold them up in their trousers. But if you write something like, ‘You are more likely to get a better bounce in bed with a fat bird’, you will have twenty tons of skinny shags bringing the law down on your head." "No, no, no; you’ve got it all wrong, my boy," pleaded Alex. "I don’t intend to demean the fair sex, far from it. What I intend to do is write a book about the basic traits of the twelve Sun-Signs as seen by a man who has dated them, all twelve, each in turn. Don’t you see, old chap, each date will be like a short story in its own right." "But where do I…?" Like the dawning of the Age of Aquarius, the spectacle of truth began to dawn on me. "Don’t tell me, you expect me to be the teller of tales, the one who gets the stories." "Exactly," said Alex, as if explaining to a . "All you have to do is meet the ladies once I’ve arranged the dates. You just take them out and enjoy their company. After the date, you come back here and report to me about your experiences, how each Sun-Sign behaved." Alex became overly enthusiastic, rubbing his hands together. "Come on, old chap." he enthused. "We’ll start with the Aries lady, then the Taurus, then Gemini… " "Hold it, Alex. Hold it just one teeny-weeny bit. Now, I hate to be a cry-baby or pour water on your little scheme but I haven’t got a clue about Astrology. You can bet most of the women will know a bit about the stuff, otherwise they wouldn’t have joined your agency." Alex wasn’t listening, shaking his head at my protestations. "I mean, let’s face it, Alex, supposing the Aries girl was looking for another Aries to date with. What do I tell her if I’m not an Aries?" Alex leaned back in his chair. "First of all, old ," he said. "I set the dates up. All your date will know is that your Birth-Chart and hers are suitable, Synastry-wise. And, secondly, if the lady wants an Aries then you tell her you are an Aries, born, say, on April the seventh." "What? Lie? Maybe I should tell her I wasn’t sure because I was a test-tube baby!" "Calm down, old chap and listen. Before you go out on each date, I will give you the necessary information regarding the various Sun-Signs, the basic traits to watch out for. Don’t worry, I’ll give you all the ‘gen’, what to expect." I still shook my head, undecided. Alex huffed and puffed. "Come on," he said. "Don’t give me a hard time. I’ll give you all you need to know, the upsides and the downsides." "But I want the bloody insides!" I blurted out. "Don’t be boring. Be a good boy and listen to me." Alex was being the headmaster now. He gave me his sternest stare before saying… "How you get on sex-wise is up to you and your date. All I want from you is a complete report on how your date behaves during the time you are with her, her actions, mannerisms, that sort of thing. I am really not interested in your devious sexual activities, not in the least." The lying old sod! I knew he’d want every sordid little detail, even photographs if any were available. Even so, the mention of sex spurred me on to comply with Alex’s offer. "And you’re going to pay for all expenses, are you?" "Everything within reason, on condition you come back with something worth writing about." It all sounded so crazy, but what did I care? I could get rampantly rich as long as Alex coughed up the cash. "If I say yes, I want the money up front. You give me the cash before I leave to take my date out." "My pleasure, dear boy; I’ll tell you what.”… Alex rose to turn and study a calendar pinned to the wall behind him. "You pop off home now and come back to see me in a couple of days time, say, Thursday. I’ll have your first date fixed up by then." He turned back as he finished talking and pulled open the desk drawer. "Here." he said, throwing a couple of dog-eared books about Sun-Signs down in front of me. "I suggest you read them while you have the time, get some insight into the women you’ll be coming up against." It was only when I was sitting on the home-bound bus, clutching the books that I thought about the last words Alex had said to me. What had he meant when he referred to the women as ‘The ones I would be coming up against’? I mean, ‘Coming up against’ sounded rather antagonistic, as if I were about to enter a contest of sorts. Even at school, I always lost any contest, from ‘conker-bashing’ to who had the biggest ‘Winkle’. I rubbed at myself with unease, so that the lady next to me, a large asthmatic old girl glared with disapproval before getting up with loud gasps, moving further down the bus, to sit next to and squash someone else. I learned much later about the instincts and intuitions women have. When I thought back, about that big old girl, I reckoned she must have had a whole lot of suspicious Scorpio in her nature. But for now… Get me home bus. Let me change from my one good suit into my favourite corduroys and sleeveless cardie, a hot cup of tea and then settle down in front of a fire to study the books. |
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lol, you are a creature of habit with your favourite leisure wear and cup of tea before settling down to a cosy fire - enjoy the read 
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Ha Ha, so Richard is not looking for love only shags, the dirty bugger.  Goodness me I'm not so sure he will be able to fool all those ladies though.That's a very difficult task Alex has set for him .. Who will be his first victim? Great read Ron, thanks for the laugh 
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