Have Towel. Will travel.

Looking back on my JamsBio entries to date I realise that I am at risk of coming across like some sort of latter day Arthur Dent, as the focus of my contributions to date seem to be:

a) Fit girls that I fancied,

b) Great parties that these fit girls were at; and above all

c) My singular, ability to ever get off with any of the aforementioned fit girls at the similarly aforementioned great parties.

This song has associations with a) - c) and thus compounds the view that my life is straight out of the Richard Curtis playbook.

The protaganist on this occassion was Sam (or Samantha) Finche who's parents ran the garage down the road. In retrospect I think she was probably quite chav -ike (a term which didn't exist in 1986,) and she was almost certainly rather lairy and tomboyish (both terms which did,) - but aged 10 I knew no better.

Typically, if I like someone, then I like them FOREVER. Well, for years anyway, even childhood/teenage crushes lastest for years, whether they were requited or not. The same is true now, more or less.

I don't recall feeling the same way about Sam, but it's a long time ago, and the grey matter isn't what it once was. Either that or I've deliberately supressed the rest out of pure embarassment. I'll let you decide which is most likely to hold true.

What I do recall however was slow dancing to this song in my bedroom, the track on a loop. Now, no one ever told me that when a girl puts her arms on your shoulders so she can smooch with you, that you don't do the same.

(I now gather that a slightly better technique is to put your arms around her waist. Readers, please correct me if I am *still* doing this wrong...)

If you do, as I did, then you end up dancing with your hands on their shoulders, and they with their hands on your shoulders. If that sounds pretty damned weird it is. Try doing it!

Deploy this technique as my Don Juan like younger self attempted to do, and you'll find that you can't actually get even vaguely close to your partner, which of course somewhat defeats the point of the exercise in the first place.

Now I've since discovered a way round this, you need one of you to be double jointed, and/or for one of you to have arms several feet shorter than the other.

Failing that, you could of course always use the correct technique, but where's the fun in that?