The couple I set next to at Bertolucci's tonight were very dreary. Flat voiced teachers in their fifties. In their dotage.
My ears have no volume control. I can't cut them out. "Blah, blah" Not a muscle seems ever to move in either of their faces. "I think both candidates are very presentable, blah." They sound like staffroom buddies and it takes time to realise they are in fact a "couple." Aren't they bored with each other? I'm screamingly bored after less than three minutes. And after 20...
Eventually it's time for them to order desert. All of a sudden she is all giggly girlish, flirting with him over the prospect of eating something sweet. "No, you order," he says, hia voice betraying some excitement, too. "I'll have a mouthful of yours."
General merriment. It's probably the closest they'll get to sex for months.
