Eight years on…
So, it’s eight years since my wife and I were married on the seafront at Larnica, Cyprus. How we haven’t killed each other by now, I’ll never know.
We just couldn’t be more different!
However, I love her dearly, she may be difficult at times, but anybody who can put up with me for eight years deserves a medal or some kind of humanitarian recognition.
I decided that, even though eight years is no special deal at all for a wedding anniversary, at least she should be rewarded for me leaving her on her own for more than 20 weeks last year. Not that she complained that much. But that’s probably because she had to spend so much time with the landscape gardener out in the back. Must be the case, because the phone was so rarely answered when I rang home…
So, I came up with a wonderful idea. I’d take her to London with me as I had to attend a special round table event with my buddy Jim Sterne. And then as a special treat, take her to a west end show. But not just any show… Oh no.
The round table event was last Thursday (the day of our anniversary) but we agreed that we’d have the official anniversary celebration on the Friday. She was happy with that, but was wracking her brains trying to imagine where I was taking her.
Anyway, as a quick aside, she and I traditionally go to a Greek restaurant for our anniversary (being married in Cyprus, and all) but they’ve closed our favourite place down (not the we helped keep it open only going there once a year!).
So, this year I had to come up with something new. Well… I know a little Russian place in London which is just so, so cool. And we’d never been together. Believe me this is the real deal (my wife would spot a fake restaurant a mile away). So, I booked us a table and we drank *real* Russian vodka and ate *real* Russian food. The vodka helped me to build up to the next surprise I had for Tatjana.
I explained to her that with it being our anniversary and knowing what was expected of me, I had responded to an email I received. I told her that the email promised that the product could add a full, three extra inches to my manhood. That’ll excite her, I thought…
We were looking at the bust below and she looked at me and said: Michael, who is that? But I swear… she said it like it was maybe some guy I used to hang out with!
So, what about the west end show? Well, you guys in the States won’t know anything about this, as you were never inflicted by the most fatuous Euro-Disco band of all time, known as Boney M. However, in Europe/UK they were big. But In Russia… They were enormous. Totally huge!
And in London, they’re doing a Abba, Mama Mia type show featuring the hits of Boney M. And it’s named after their first hit: Daddy Cool.
It was… FANTASTIC! One of the most feel good shows I’ve seen in the west end for years. Seriously, even though the lyrics are about as meaningful as the cat sat on the mat and some of the tunes are pure kindergarten, it is a great show. Absolute escapism. Try it!
And then… I decided to treat myself and take my wife to one of my favourite eateries in London, the Brasserie in the very posh Covent Garden Hotel. Now wait for this… Having spent two hours listening to Boney M… I went to the bar at the brasserie and bumped into former Sex Pistols manager, Malcolm McClaren whom I’d not seen for many a long year.