So, Saturday evening I’m on the phone with The Imaginary Girlfriend, and things are going swimmingly when I forget myself and mention in passing a lady who I find moderately attractive.
Suddenly we’ve gone straight to DEFCON One, and there is a stream of abuse screeching out of the phone involving terms such as ‘liar’, ‘hypocrite’ and worse, the kind of language you usually hear only in reference to a politician up for re-election.
(I may be exaggerating slightly – well, a lot – for dramatic effect.)
The crux of TIG’s complaint is that I have remarked on occasion how she is the only woman I desire, and I’d have to say that this is completely unfair as she fancies no end of men and has never hesitated to tell me about them.
In fact there are times when I believe that the only criteria for TIG to find a man desirable is that he isn’t me.
Anyway, when the storm abates slightly and I manage to get a word in edgeways, I tell her that with the other woman my interest was only sexual but with her ‘it would be making love’.
Now I thought that was a tolerably good save in the circumstances, but mock gagging sounds from the other end of the line suggest otherwise.
Okay, John Cougar Mellencamp has the mic:-
It occurs to me that the song/video could easily be about TIG and myself.
Only I’m not Jack, and her name isn’t Diane.
And we’re not American, or sixteen.
(We weren’t that young even when we first met all those years ago.)
And I never wanted to be a football star.
So, nothing like really.
This one time I did playfully pat her bottom, just as Jack does with Diane in the video.
It was the highpoint of our relationship, a plateau from which we’ve steadily been drawing back ever since, to the point where there’s hope we’ll bump into each other again on the far side of the world.
Oh yeah, life goes on.