Found old entry from the 80s:
Dear Diary,
It’s the morning after the night before. I’m not quite sure what the hell happened last night, but I have a vague recollection of how it all started.
Now, I was going to my friend Aldo’s restaurant, right, with a couple of friends. It’s my favourite restaurant, mind you, and Aldo has a way to persuade me into buying that expensive wine that I like. That goes straight to my head.
We were sitting there waiting, right, then we’re having an excellent meal, the wine is even more excellent, my friends – a couple, of course, were getting rather touchy/feely and I felt a bit left out. I looked around, couples couples couples everywhere. Needless to say, it was a bit unfair.
So I ordered another bottle. At this point I’ve stopped caring about the soddin’ couples surrounding me everywhere. Being who I am, and not having performed a song for a while, I rather felt like doing one. I thought, “I wonder what would happen if I just got up and started singing…?”
It’s kind of like when you sit across from someone and think, “If I just spat on her RIGHT now…” or “If I start screaming really loudly…” The ‘what if’ scenarios are rather intriguing, if you ask me. Besides, for some reason, people find it even more shocking when it’s someone like me acting out of character.
Suddenly I found myself serenading all the diners, singing, “To all the girls I’ve loved before.” Don’t ask. Imagine, right, me going, “To all the girls I’ve loved before, who travelled in and out my door, I’m glad they came along, I dedicate this song to all the girls I’ve loved before. The winds of change are always blowing and every time I try to stay the winds of change continue blowing and they just carry me away” I wish it was a joke, but it’s not. Unfortunately. (But hey, at least it suits my voice!)
The guys didn’t seem too impressed, I seem to recall. A couple of women were quite taken with it, though, I think. I believe I asked one if she wanted to go with me, and she was about to answer when her boyfriend – I presume – stood up and it’s the classic scenario when the boyfriend is like 8 feet tall and makes you look like an ant in comparison.
After much consideration, and with a little help from Aldo and a few waiters, I decided to leave. I grabbed the bottle, raved down the street to some club and picked up some… whatever it was. Woke up this morning in an unknown room with an elephant sitting on my head (or so it felt) and someone in the shower. Decided to leg it before I was reminded of what I’d picked up and am now home. Feel slightly bad, but hey… life is life etc.
Aldo just called and said I didn’t have to return to his restaurant until I found it convenient to not make a fool of myself and upset his guests in the process. Added I was most welcome back, but that the wine would be limited to one bottle. Unfair. All I did was do what I usually do on a stage. I’m sure I’d get the chick if her damned boyfriend wasn’t there. I’m sure I could have taken him on – if he hadn’t been like 10 feet.
Oh well. I’m sure by the turn of the decade, the 90’s, there will be some sort of method to make me look like I’m 10 feet tall as well. Could of course consider high heels. In the meantime, I’ll keep telling myself I’m 6ft.
George xx PS: WHY can’t I get the f*cking song outta my head!? “To all the girls I’ve loooved befoooore….”
