aBigForehead

I go to the cinema by myself.

I don’t see the big deal.  Some do.

The Friday before last, I decide I need mindless entertainment and go see Mamma Mia. 

Friday night and the lights are low
Looking out for the place to go
Where they play the right music, getting in the swing
You come in to look for a king
Anybody could be that guy
Night is young and the music's high
With a bit of rock music, everything is fine
You're in the mood for a dance
And when you get the chance...

You are the Dancing Queen, young and sweet, only seventeen.

Not quite.

Whilst I wait for the movie to begin, I talk to my sister about one of those family dramas that never transpires but invokes enough emotion it may as well have done.

Where are you?

I’m going to the cinema.

She makes a remark about my movie-going regularity. She’s right. I used to avoid movies, even on the television; switch channels where others would settle and sink into the sofa.  Now it’s become my story fix, coinciding with a disinterest in reading fiction.  I try and see foreign films mostly but now and again mindless Hollywood also gets a look-in. 

At the cinema, I ask for one ticket to Mamma Mia, please.

Only ONE?

Is ‘one’ inaudible to some?

Yes, one.

One of these days I’m going to say. No, two, don’t you see the tall invisible black man, dressed in jeans, crisp white shirt and sexy smile standing devotedly behind me?

You know they’ll crane their necks to see. You know. And it'll tickle my funny bone. You know.

Inside, I pop popcorn like it went out of fashion in the seventies.  I spot a Somali couple take their seats and stifle my giggles with popcorn.  There’s no way he’d be watching Mamma Mia unless it was early days.  Early, early days.  I stuff some more popcorn into my mouth.  Hahaha.

Part of why I’m watching the film is Pierce Brosnan. 

And there he is.  He’s looking weathered but there’s something about him; he’s wearing jeans and a white shirt(yes, it’s a fetish).

Just one look and I can hear a bell ring
One more look and I forget everything, o-o-o-oh

Mamma mia, here I go again
My my, how can I resist you?

He starts to sing. My jaw drops.  He’s awful.  Awful.  I laugh and laugh.  Others in the audience find it funny too.  One woman is laughing a full five minutes later.

I pray he won’t bray again. He does. Now I cry with laughter.  Meryl Streep looks like she’s having a blast; he looks constipated.  I put the popcorn down and slap my thigh.  Unintended humour is the best.

The following day, after a rousing massage, I stroll floppily into a patisserie and wait to be seated.  I wait for the moment. 

For one, please.

Just one? She holds up a forefinger.

I break into song:

There's not a soul out there
No one to hear my prayer

Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight
Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away

She seats me and I make small talk with a Japanese family and their designer shopping bags.  They take photos of me with their slim-line camera.  My first impromptu sing-a-song and I already have fans.

I lie.

I say, yes, one and sit and make small talk with a Japanese family who have already forgotten I exist.

Am I to lug a blow-up man doll around to be accepted?  Where do I get one to my ethnic specification?

Hello.  Blow-up Man Dolls R US.  Amanda speaking, how may I help you?

Erm, hi. I’m looking for a man.

You’ve come to the right place! What kind of man did you have in mind?

Tall.

How tall?

6 foot?

Sure. Colour?

Black.

Mocca? Choca? Honey?

Choca, please. I think, yeah, why not, sounds sweet.

Clothing?

Huh?

What do you want him to be wearing?

Jeans (sheepishly)

Make?

Levi’s..

Shirt? T-shirt? Sweater? Jacket?

Shirt, white. Jacket, navy blue.  Slim fitting not too tight; can’t stand too tight on men. Good shoes.

Of course, madam. Whatever you want. Accent?

Does he have to speak?

No.

Mute, please.

Not a problem.  Look-a-like?

Hm, Blair Underwood. Was that his name?

I don't know, madam, what does he look like?

Hot.

Oh, the guy in Blade.

No, that's Wesley Snipes.

I'll look him up, how do you spell Underwood? 'A', 'N'...

'U',' N',' D'..

Me and D what?

Oh, God. Forget it. Just do James Bond.

Good choice! Anything else?

What else can I get?

Hair.

Not bothered.

How about blond? Blond’s popular.

No. Black. Black is the colour of my true love’s hair.

Sorry?

Nothing, forget it.  Do people actually order man dolls?

Why yes.  Our most popular man doll even sings.

Sings?

Sings.

Sings?

Songs.

Sings?

Sings.

What?

Abba mostly.

Noooo.

Yes.

Like what? Waterloo?

Like(sings nasally):

If you're all alone when the pretty birds have flown
Honey I'm still free
Take a chance on me
Gonna do my very best and it ain't no lie
If you put me to the test, if you let me try

Take a chance on me
(Come on, give me a break will you?)
Take a chance o..

Click.

Madam? Madam? Do you want ONE?