Legend has it that I proposed to you on the traffic island opposite the park on West Ealing Broadway. You say I got down on one knee in the midst of crossing the Uxbridge Road.
I have vague recollections of that, although I always thought it was while waiting to cross Northfield Avenue at the corner of Mattock Lane. Wasn’t there cinema there then?
No, but you insist it’s your recollections that are correct. It’s the kind of thing you wouldn’t forget, you say. In your version, just as I asked you, the little man went green, which you took to mean, “Go ahead!”
But in my version, I’m certain this was on our journey back from the registry office at Ealing Town Hall, where we had just been interviewed to confirm our marriage arrangements, at which point you told me I hadn’t proposed to you yet.
Ever the romantic, I decided to do the deed there and then, on that pavement, with traffic wizzing past. It seems you didn’t hold it against me, for you recall this tale whenever we return to Cudi’s.
Listening to this song made me think of all this. What silly souls we were back then.
Last modified: 22 September 2024
