On Saturday night Husband and I went out. I know! Very unusual. I think he doesn't dare object when I suggest something now and some talented musician friends of ours were playing at Kings Place, near Kings Cross, so we got tickets and went. We had to meet up with our French friends first, who were visiting London for the weekend, and ended up having a very speedy drink with them in the cafe upstairs at The London Transport Museum but, as the Americans say, God bless 'em, that is a whole other story.
We arrived at Kings Place in the nick of time to see the 'band' who were playing before our friends. I say band but that's possibly giving you the wrong impression. They were the New Radiophonic Workshop and they were playing (and again that's possibly giving the wrong impression) in the dark.
Their set consisted of a series of random sounds accompanied by a group of lightbulbs, suspended on strings on stage, which came on and off to the 'music'. To say it was challenging is an understatement. I was worried Husband would be cross with me for dragging him all the way across London to listen to a series of random noises with accompanying lightbulbs and that he would want to get up and leave but luckily he was fine about it, but only because he was asleep.
At the end of this performance, before our friends came on, a woman behind us said very loudly what those of us remaining in the audience were merely thinking: "I just can't believe how bad that was!" And then she said it again for good measure.
Afterwards we met up with our friends in the bar. I was introduced to someone I had been told a story about that has stuck in my mind like glue ever since, probably because it's about sex. This is the story -
Heartbroken woman is being pursued by male friend - the male friend in question being the man I was introduced to - but the girl is in pieces over a love affair that has just ended and can't contemplate starting another relationship and doesn't fancy this male friend anyway. Not one bit. But somehow he persuades her to go camping with him and while camping they somehow have the most amazing sex in a tent. It is so amazing that she immediately and completely falls in love with him - the man I am currently being introduced to - and they have been together ever since, in fact they are married, and she was there with him, smiling, a lot.
Good story eh? Actually it reminds me of another good getting-it-together story that involves a friend of mine who was also recently heartbroken (what is it with people who are recently heartbroken?) who went to a play and saw a handsome young actor up on stage and thought, 'oh my God, that is the man I must be with' and so wrote him a letter to say so, and then they went for a coffee and now they have four children. I love that story, both because it's improbable and romantic. The best sort.
Anyway, I digress, back to the couple in the tent. So, on Saturday night, after the challenging random noises and the lightbulbs in the dark and listening to our friends play (they were SO good, which was a blessed relief), I was introduced to aforementioned man and suddenly it all clicked and I remembered the story...
"Oh yes! I've heard all about you!" I say, and I am about to add, "You're the guy who gave that girl the amazing orgasm in the tent!" because I have just had two beers and a large glass of red wine in quick succession in a desperate attempt to forget all about the New Radiophonic Workshop. But, thank God, the edit fairy was actually on duty for a change and I didn't say that. I thought it, oh yes I thought it, but I merely said, "Yes! I remember all about you!"
And so Orgasm Guy looks me straight in the eyes, holding my gaze with his piercing blue peepers for slightly longer than is strictly necessary and there is definitely, most definitely, a little twinkle in them.
Well, there would be wouldn't there.
Kitchen news: fallen in love with Fired Earth kitchen. Probably can't afford it.