Some private clubs are very exclusive and require significant endorsements for membership. Tamalous Inc. however, is a different kind of animal. It will pluck you and incorporate you into their ranks without your knowledge.
How do they do it? It’s simple and ingenious. After a certain age, various body parts start to conspire against you. Your knee, hip, back, or any other part of your anatomy begins to complain and demands attention. You start by taking painkillers, hoping they will make the pain vanish. It might… but only temporarily, and sooner or later, the pain returns… sometimes with relatives.
Your frustration grows with the pain, and soon you start discussing that concern with your friends. You then discover that all your pals are experiencing the same discomfort and have been enrolled in the Tamalous without their knowledge.
So, when you meet with your chums, instead of discussing women, food, or politics as French people typically do, the first question they ask is “t’as mal où?” which in colloquial French means “Where do you hurt?” And surprise, everyone (even seemingly robust-looking fellows) discovers that they are now full-time members of this famous organization.
Club Tamalou is a vast international outfit, with members in nearly every country, even in prudish Iran. There is no discrimination whatsoever—male, female, gay, transgender—if you hurt, you become automatically part of the Big Brotherhood of Lamentations.
Of course, unknown to outsiders, we have a secret handshake to communicate with each other… and that is all I will say about this confidential matter. We don’t have a flag yet, but we are working on it, and I am confident that one day we will have a special holiday to acknowledge our status.
The Tamalous, like the Freemasons, unite for mutual support and fellowship… and the glamor of their secret ceremonies.
T’as mal où?
Alain