Earlier this week Guido got super excited. Our local bar is a pub called The Garrison. Let’s just say it’s situated in the better end of Bermondsey (if indeed there is a better end). Lots of city types hang out in it. There’s a tiny cinema downstairs for hire and we’d been invited round to watch a private movie screening.
“What are they showing?” I yelled from the bath tub.
“I’m not sure,” said Guido, “but there will be gastro food options. And, there’s alcohol on tap. Does it really matter?”
Personally I’m not a big fan of cinemas, no matter what their size. My experience is that they’re full of people who can eat hotdogs even faster than I do. Guido loves cinemas. He loves the whole ritual. Queuing for tickets. Queuing for popcorn. Finding the row of our seats. Then listening to me moan for the next two and a half hours because the woman in front of me has enormous hair. He especially loves old fashioned cinemas like the Curzon in the West End. In fact, he asked me out there on our very first date but when we turned up it was full so we went back to his loft and, because we had nothing better to do, we had sex all night just to pass the time. I’m only guessing, but I think that was probably a lot more fun than My Big Fat Greek Wedding.
“I very well may regret asking you this but what’s your worst case scenario movie wise?” asked Guido.
“Well,” I said, “I’d hate anything which involved any kind of a sing along soundtrack or compulsory audience participation.”
“I see,” he said. He stuck his head around the bathroom door. I could tell he looked worried. I think he thought it was probably going to be Mamma Mia.
“Nor am I a fan of those movies where more than 90 percent of the cast end up being hacked to death with a big machete whilst on a remote camping trip, nor anything involving Hugh Grant naked.”
“I see,” Guido said again. He sat down on the edge of the bath. “So what about your best case scenario?”
“Oh anything foreign, as long as I can keep up, I’m a real sucker for subtitles.”
“Hey, maybe it will be my favourite classic,” he said. I knew what was coming. “Jaws.”
“Oh please no more Jaws.” Even sitting in bath water was making me nervous thinking about it. Guido and I must have watched Jaws, ten, eleven times together and every time he says exactly the same things at exactly the same times.
1. That woman running into the sea gets all eaten up.
2. This scene coming up is where a decomposed head pops out of a submerged hull, and;
3. Yeah, they definitely need A BIGGER BOAT!
If you ever make it to The Garrison I can highly recommend the smoked mac n’ cheese with skinny fries but remember to thoroughly brush your teeth before bedtime.
“If you don’t get into our bed right this instant ” said Guido, “you’re going to regret it.” There was a short thoughtful pause. “Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of your life.”
I flossed as fast as I could. I guess we’ll always have Southwark.