Friday, 18 April 2014

Good Fruitday

When I was 17 and still kept a paper diary, my parents came into a small amount of money and decided to take the family to Disneyland Paris for a midweek during the Easter holidays. This trip, while enjoyable enough by merit of Big Thunder Mountain, wasn't overly successful for a number of reasons: namely Disney messing up our train ticket by naming it "DISNEY" along with everyone else's and my sister conveniently becoming sick when we got there - the only time I've seen somebody vomit before going on the "It's a Small World" ride.

In any case, I sort of enjoyed myself, and we returned on Good Friday (although I had originally wanted to come back on Maundy Thursday; I'm not sure why). It took us a while to get back from Paris - we took the Eurostar if I remember correctly - and so when we returned it was about 9pm - plenty of time, I reasoned, to have a watch of whatever glossy smut there would be on Channel 5 of a Friday evening.

I wasn't disappointed.

What they were showing was something I don't remember wholly and have never seen again. A strange film billed as a sex comedy but not actually being particularly funny, apparently based (although I found this out years later) on both the author's and main character's real life. Essentially, the plot revolved around a journalist who sought out various conquests and then brought written depictions to her editor, who invariably became incredibly aroused and printed them in his newspaper. I wasn't keen on this framing device or the dog-like sounds the editor seemed to enjoy making, but I appreciated the sex scenes for what they were: a '70s or '80s sheen covered them (which I always found a little off-putting), but they showed a lot of graphic(ish) detail, plus the settings were wonderful - a particular memory happens to be of a scene in the back of a fruit cart, with her hands squashing fruit during full-on sex (something I now find a little distasteful, but I seemed to like back then).

Since then, and it's been about twelve years now, Good Friday always brings back that memory. I know I shouldn't - there are more things to be interested in during Life, and besides, it's a Christian festival; I ought to be in prayer or something - however, me making the invariably "wow, it is Good Friday!" joke at the time seems to have cemented it in my mind. I also haven't been to Disneyland since then, but that's irrelevant...

...although French continental pastries for breakfast the beginning of the day followed by sex and fruit at the end has a nice enough ring to it.

I'm still on the look-out for something perfect. But it's nice to know that these things are out there, and as it is Good Friday now, I'm going to have to go looking for it.

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