H tells me about that one time he went to a Russian nouveau riche wedding, and the couple took to the dancefloor to share their first dance as a married couple to the tune of Mecano’s Hijo de la Luna.
Hijo de la Luna is a very popular Spanish song and I can see how it may have appealed to the nouveau riche Russian couple, as it is a mysterious, ethnic, sophisticated Mediterranean melody that you can fairly easily sway to, with no particular rhythm for Slavs to fuck up.
It also tells the story of a gypsy who murders his wife and newborn baby in a savage way, because the baby has pale skin and he assumes she’s cheated on him with a white guy.
Obviously don’t have this song at your wedding.
And H is standing at the edge of the dance floor and he keeps looking around, trying to make eye contact with anyone else who may also be thinking what the fuck ever, but he is the only one at the wedding who understand Spanish and everyone else is looking approvingly at the bride in her eggshell Vera Wang dress, dancing in the arms of her new husband while a gypsy woman gets disembowelled through the sound system.
I have no idea why I think about this while I am waiting in line at the cashier in the most depressing supermarket in Prague, I think — actually I should research this. There’s this one, which is an Albert under Namesti Republiky that’s so atrociously lit and distributed it feels like a grocery morgue. And there will be others — Albert in Olsanske Namesti, I’m looking at you.
But now I am here and the line is so slow because this particular horrible supermarket happens to employ a very nice cashier who is also a colossal asshole by virtue of being very nice. And it occurs to me that the old adage that nice guys are just assholes in disguise is true, OMG it’s so true, look at this jackass trying to be everybody’s best friend, you’re working in this grocery bunker on a beautiful, sunny Sunday afternoon and you’re emoting everybody’s shopping experience.
I just want to buy a thing of milk and two protein bars so I can eat something after the gym and run to meet H at Svetozor to watch
Not La La Land Moonlight at long last.
And I really don’t know why but my mind goes
Hijo de la Luna.