Friday 5th October 2018
Reading time 02 minutes 32 seconds
Don’t cry for me Argentina. Eva Perón.
Excluding Vegetarians, Vegans, Hindus and people with dentures, who doesn’t love a good steak? It’s my favourite food and whilst I know it’s bad for me I’m OK with that as I work harder in other areas to try and balance it out. For example, I’ll eat with a side order of Broccoli.
A while back I was working at an IT company and times were hard because of the 2008 financial crash. The IT industry is a beast though and must move forward or die and the people with me at the time were moving forward very well.
There was one talented sales guy known as Mark who was so talented that he won an all expenses 5-star trip to Argentina which, as we know, is the spiritual home of Steak. I quipped that if his wife wasn’t free I would go with him.
Two weeks later Mark told me his wife couldn’t make it, as she had to take care of the kids, and as Mark was in sales he only had one other friend who was also busy. So Mark, somewhat reluctantly, asked me to be his travel companion. Before I could even say yes, I had ordered my lonely planet guide to Buenos Aires and started listening to the Evita soundtrack.
As with all things in life there is balance and one day later, whilst at my first Tango for Cash lesson, my girlfriend was taken ill and required an operation. This really upset me as I quite liked her, it was fairly serious, and marginally less concerning her operation fell during the Argentina holiday. I was presented with a choice. Support my unwell girlfriend or follow my Argentine dream.
I did the only thing that a person would do when faced with that type of dilemma and I asked if the date could be moved. The NHS didn’t budge.
Happily I found a slither of hope. I worked out I could be there for my girlfriend, as they wheeled her into theatre, then rush to the airport and catch the flight. My girlfriend would understand, wouldn’t she? She’d only be laying around recuperating off her nut on Morphine and I would be back in 5 days. The Portuguese would describe what I had concocted as an “excelente plano”.
I explained my cleverness to my incredibly ill girlfriend and how I could be there for her AND go to Argentina. The look on her face was pain. Was her problem acting up again? “Yes”, she said. I was.
It turned out that I didn’t go. Selfish me was gutted but I was there, for my partner through it all. She survived, and during the hours I spent with her post op I occasionally wondered how good that steak might have been.
The Tango remained undanced and the steak remained in Córdoba. I’m still with my girlfriend, who I believe owes me an all-expenses paid trip to Argentina.
Picture: Comedy takes me way too deep into enemy territory