So I had a fun time away in Budapest. I hung out with friends, met friends of friends and we enjoyed all the thrills the city has to offer. We did a lot of drinking, saw some good live music (if our Adele ever disappears, and we don’t mind her replacement having a Hungarian accent, then famous chantuse Toth Vera can easily be dropped into her place) and yes – I admit it – we may have taken in one or two strip shows as well.
It should have been a holiday without a single bad memory; instead – from about halfway through – my blood was chilled. On Friday night we were in a rockabilly bar called Cafe Amigo, watching a really good band called Crazy Cat & The Blue Moons. I was earning the envy of my friends by dancing with a Hungarian Mila Kunis (albeit, a version two stone heavy). Nothing was going to happen as, of course, I have Julie – but it was fun to watch their faces as I spun her around. But then I looked up and standing at the bar was Alison.
I didn’t imagine it, I didn’t hallucinate, it genuinely was her – absolutely and positively. She was dressed in a dark coat and a red beret and she was smiling at me.
At that moment this MIla Kunis girl spun the other way and I lost sight of the bar. When I turned back – only a second or so later – Alison had gone, she just wasn’t there anymore. As swiftly as I could I extricated myself from my dancing partner and changed out to find her. I checked all three floors, looked at the street outside, but couldn’t see her anywhere. And yet I know, absolutely know, that my vanished girlfriend was in that bar in Budapest with me.
For the rest of the weekend, even though I tried to enjoy myself, I could feel her somewhere close by.
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