I’m one of those people for whom music can trigger very vivid memories. Which would explain why whenever I hear The Gypsy Kings track “Bamboleo” it makes me want to rip all my clothes off.
I was reminded of this fact last night but first let me rewind you, by way of a silly explanation, to when I used to regularly stop by The Spanish Onion cafe during my lunch break. This was before Guido and I were dating, simultaneously removing each other’s clothing, or liberally spreading condiments onto each other’s bodies on a regular basis. Though I was definitely thinking about all of that. I was younger. I was thinner. I was still hopefully amoral. I was also totally unaware how a tiger prawn fried in garlic butter could change the course of two gay men’s lives. Yet there Guido would be – behind the chilled glass counter with his big chopper – whipping up something utterly delicious for me. Of course all I’d be dreaming about was him whipping everything off me.
The reason I’m telling you these sordid details is because, in the background, The Gypsy Kings CD would be playing loudly. Naturally all that plucking and strumming would work me up into a post lunch frenzy. So there you have it folks, it was inevitable; sooner or later all my clothes would drop off.
Fast forward to last night and let’s just say familiarity breeds familiarity. That predictable but comforting end of week routine where Guido collapses on our sofa wearing nothing but his underpants. By the way, one leg of our leather chesterfield is still broken and is now propped up precariously with a can of chopped tomatoes. Anyway, I lay next to Guido debating whether it would be completely revolting if I added spray cream and vermicelli sprinkles to sliced banana on toast (by the way, it’s not).
“I guess this is what we’ve sunk to on an ordinary Saturday night,” I said, “you letting it hang out in all directions and me stuffing it in,” I licked my lips. “I mean, what the hell is next for us?”
“This is what domestic bliss looks like kiddo,” he said waving his arm enthusiastically across the empty room, and I don’t think he was joking either.
I let out a long “hmmm” noise.
“Are you happy Guido, I mean, are you really happy?” I said staring at the ceiling pensively whilst considering another slice of toast. It was tempting.
“Oh God. We’re not going to have one of those conversations, are we?” said Guido sighing.
So I waved my arm just as enthusiastically as he had across the other side of the room.
“I mean, when you see me at the end of a long day, do you still feel the same way you did all those years ago?” I said picking a stray piece of banana stuck between my front teeth. Let’s just say it felt icky.
“Look. Why don’t we listen to some music and have some wine?” said Guido deftly changing the subject, “or is that too predictable for you?”
I hear a cork pop and the music start.
However after that my memory is kind of blurry. I’m not sure which came first. The wine or the music. Suffice it to say, you can probably guess what happened next.