All tildes carefully pasted in place

I was listening to Escape (The Piña Colada Song) by Rupert Holmes yesterday. You probably know it. It’s about a man who is tired of his lady (and if he insists on calling her a lady, we can presume the feeling is mutual). She’s sleeping in bed, he’s reading the paper, and he sees an advert:

If you like piña coladas, and getting caught in the rain
If you’re not into yoga, if you have half a brain
If you like making love at midnight, in the dunes of the cape
I’m the love that you’ve looked for, write to me, and escape

And he thinks, well, that’s me to a tee. He replies and says yes, I do like piña coladas, and getting caught in the rain. He also says he’s not much into health food, which I suppose one could lump under a broad heading of “healthy living” with yoga. He dodges the having half a brain part of the question altogether, opting instead for the fact that he is “into” champagne. And he arranges to meet her at a bar.

He’s waiting there next day, full of high hopes, when who should walk in but his own partner? Awk-ward, right? Well, seemingly not. Because neither of them says “Wait a minute, you… you were willing to cheat on me?” Neither of them cringes, or runs away in embarrassment, or sighs and says “Well, this marriage is a bit of a farce, isn’t it?” No, she smiles, and says “Oh, it’s you”. As you would. And they laugh for a moment. As you would, when confronted with the fact that your romantic life is a complete sham. And then he says “I never knew”.

Because apparently he never knew that she liked piña coladas, or getting caught in the rain. Surely that would come up, over the course of a long relationship? Why would she not admit that she liked piña coladas? Does he have some dreadful allergy to pineapple and she didn’t like to mention it? And what about the rain? They must have been out together at some point when it started raining, why wouldn’t she say “This is fun!”, or words to that effect to indicate general positivity? What has she been playing at, keeping these to herself? Especially if they’re important enough to her that they’re top of her wish list when it comes to finding someone with whom to escape.

He also says he never knew that she liked the feel of the ocean, and the taste of champagne. Neither of which she even mentioned. She doesn’t say a word about the ocean. I think we’re starting to understand why she’s a bit fed up with him, because you don’t listen Rupert. As for champagne, she expresses no feelings there either – it’s he who is “into” it. He’s clearly one of those men who thinks that just because he likes something, she must too. She probably hates champagne. He never asked, did he? Too busy reading the paper.

One thing they do agree on, however, is that they like making love at midnight, in the dunes of the cape. Which all sounds lovely in principle, but:

  1. Midnight, precisely? Bit regimented, isn’t it? “Rupert, it’s 11.30, we should be heading for the cape.” “Can I just watch the end of Match of the Day?” “No, because then we’ll be late. The dunes won’t wait, Rupert.”
  2. Won’t that be a bit chilly? I mean, it depends which cape, clearly. Still, I’d take a nice cardigan.
  3. The sand. It’s bad enough getting sand off your feet.

They’re welcome to each other.

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