What’s the Spanish for Male Stripper?

At this time of year, I find myself thinking back to my first Christmas as a married man. We lived in a small house in a tough neighbourhood. On one side of us lived a large family ruled over by a mother with the voice of a drill sergeant.

When she yelled at her kids, even I brushed my teeth and got into bed.

She was ambitious for her brood. She wanted them all to speak more than one language, so she sent them for Spanish lessons. She was worried the youngest wasn’t making much progress.

“He’s four years old,” she wailed at me, “But he still doesn’t know the word for please!”

“That’s poor for four,” I agreed.

Male Stripper

The house on the other side was occupied by Joe, an ageing male stripper.

“My friends say I should retire,” he told us, “But I’m going to stick it out for another year.”

He did…and he did!

Joe had an active social life and frequently brought friends back to his house. One night in the run-up to Christmas, the noise was unbearable. I went round and knocked on his door at 2.00 a.m. “Seriously, Joe!” I said when he answered. “I can’t sleep a wink!”

“Well, you are so lucky, neighbour!” he said with a huge smile. “Because we’re having a party here — come on in!”

Joe was kind-hearted if a little vain. He took more selfies than anyone I knew. We rarely saw him without his selfie stick.

“He needs to take a good, long look at himself,” I said to my wife.

Tough Times

Things weren’t always easy those first few years. I fell in with a bad crowd and started betting heavily on horses. One morning, things got so bad I phoned Gamblers Anonymous. They told me to ring back at twenty to one.

I took that as a sign and started throwing money at longshots.

I saw a therapist to help battle my demons. She was full of sayings that just left me baffled. “When life gives you melons,” she told me, “You might be dyslexic.”

She advised me to get some new hobbies to distract me from gambling, so I took up target shooting.

I had a big collection of guns at one time, bought from a guy in the next street who went by the name of T-Rex.

He was a small arms dealer.

Shooting kept me occupied for a while, but then I moved on. I built a coop out the back and started to race pigeons. I never managed to beat one, but I lost a pile of weight with all that running.

I used to order grain for the pigeons from a mail-order catalogue. The firm never let me down, but each time they made a delivery, they phoned me and asked for my feedback. Make your mind up, people!

Walking Away

Despite my gambling problems, my wife and I stayed together. We were talking about this just recently.

“No one would have blamed you for walking away,” I told her. “What made you want to stay?”

“Your sense of humour,” she replied without hesitation.

“Did the fact I was such a good lover influence you at all?” I asked roguishly.

“There you go again!” she laughed.

Did I say something funny?

Bookmark

My wife has always been an avid reader, so I bought her a book by her favourite author that first Christmas. “Did they give you a bookmark?” she asked when she unwrapped her present.

“What do you think you’re holding, dummy?” I snapped. “And who’s this Mark fella?”

“You’re getting paranoid,” she said. “Next thing you’ll be stalking me to see who I’m meeting.”

“I don’t follow,” I told her, shaking my head.

She doesn’t read so much these days. Menopause has made her restless. And she keeps getting these really intense hot flashes. She got one yesterday and had to take off all her clothes and open every window.

It cooled her down quickly, but the people on the bus were left a bit shaken.

She was in the middle of telling me this when my friend Colin Horne phoned. He’s not a man for phone calls, so I immediately thought something was wrong. “What’s the matter, Horne?” I asked anxiously.

“It’s a big mountain in Europe,” he replied, sounding puzzled by my question. “Listen,” he continued. “Exciting news. I’m reforming my college rock band. Our name is going to be Spinal Column!”

“I’ll call you back,” I replied.

This Year

We’ll spend Christmas Day at home this year, but the following day we’re planning to go out for dinner to the local pub. They do a great traditional meal with all the trimmings, and it’s so close!

It takes us just five minutes to walk there. Oddly enough, it takes forty-five minutes to walk home again.

The difference is staggering.