The other day I went to a Ball with a headache and a cold sore – this season’s Must Have accessories. In my little lady purse, I packed myself some codeine and some Zovirax. Yes, I sure know how to party hard.
I was going as the date of my friend The Mild-Mannered Lawyer, who was attending the Ball for the second year in a row for work. The previous year, she’d gone with our friend Lady K and they’d drunk excessively and the details were all a bit hazy. This year, however, neither she nor I were really drinking – The MML was driving and I was trying not to extend the lives of my cold sore and my headache any more than I absolutely had to. Understandably, I was worried that I might appear to be a dud date in comparison.
“Now, I don’t want to hear about how last year you did such and such with Lady K and how much fun you had together,” I told her sternly as we drove there. “And I don’t want to see you crying when they play the song you danced together to because you miss her so much and you wish I was her. You’re with me now, okay?”
The MML nodded.
“Now let’s go make our own memories!” I said.
Luckily we had ‘The Darryl Cotton Band’ to help us make those memories on the dance floor. Which is just as well, as it turns out my old memories were growing faulty.
After the second song, I shouted to the MML: “I didn’t know Sherbert sung ‘Tainted Love’!”
“You’re thinking of the wrong Darryl!” The MML shouted back. “The lead singer of Sherbert was Darryl Braithwaite. This is Darryl Cotton.”
I was bitterly disappointed and I don’t think I was the only one. On the other side of the dance floor, one man had pulled out his iPhone.
“Look!” I shouted to the MML. “I think he’s googling ‘Who the fuck is Darryl Cotton if he’s not from Sherbert’!”
I did the same the minute we returned to our table. Wikipedia had something about him being in a band called ‘Zoot’ and a hit single in 1980 called ‘Same Old Girl’. And yet ‘Darryl Cotton’ was a name I’d known for at least 20 years of my life. Is this what it meant to get older? To know you know people but not to remember how or why?
ANYWAY, the MML and I had ourselves a fine time dancing to ‘The Darryl Cotton Band’, mostly because we were the only women under 50 without our husbands on the dance floor and that made us hot.
However, at one toilet stop, I realised the one thing I hadn’t packed in my lady purse was a Welcome Pack for the Silent Red Ninja – whose approach was the cause of both the headache and the cold sore, of course.
And so it came to pass that I spent the last band’s last set of the evening on the dance floor dancing to a Darryl I didn’t know and in the shadow of the MML’s previous wild date Lady K, one week off my 40th birthday, virtually sober, with a cold sore and a thumping headache AND with half a roll of toilet paper stuffed down my undies and I STILL managed to attract the attentions of a bearded youth (albeit an extremely drunken bearded youth).
Which is to say “I still got it”, right? RIGHT?
In saying that, of course, I thought I was quoting The Fonz from Happy Days but I’ve just googled it and it turns out I’m actually quoting Ralph The Mouth.
Which is to say, whatever the “it” is that I’ve got, let’s hope it’s not contagious.
PS. ‘The Darryl Cotton Band’ got me thinking… If there were ever a ‘The Darryl Cotton Band’ tribute band, they could call themselves ‘The Darryl Cotton Experience’ (part of which would no doubt involve the audience googling the name ‘Darryl Cotton’ and all of which would involve playing cover versions of cover versions) and if that didn’t work out for them, they could maybe throw some Buddy Holly numbers into the mix and call themselves ‘The Cotton Bud Experience’. Maybe not.