The Landlady

The Landlady refects on how humour doesn’t travel

I am planning to visit Cuba again in November and am relieved that, on this occasion, I will not be obliged to spend any time with a Cuban Boyfriend. My past few visits, although enjoyable, have been mainly confined to being glued to The Ex-Cuban Boyfriend. Much as he was a very nice guy, we simply didn’t share the same sense of humour.

This was not just as a result of Spanish not being my first language, as some of my roughly hewn Spanish jokes had Yusi, her mum, her next door neighbour and just about everyone apart from The Ex-Cuban Boyfriend howling with laughter.

I think the turning point in our relationship came when we went to a club in central Havana. There was a very shoddy Cuban drag-act from Miami doing stand-up comedy on stage. About 45 minutes into the act, The Ex Cuban Boyfriend leant over to me and whispered “Guess what? It’s a really man!”

“I just went to the loo and head-butted the very flimsy wall – a sure sign of a relationship on the turn”

Unfortunately, the Spanish words for ‘really, I would never have spotted that, coming from the gay capital of northern Europe’ didn’t spring easily to mind, so I just went to the loo and head-butted the very flimsy wall.

A sure sign of a relationship on the turn. I have heard many times from Yusi since my most recent trip and I’m relieved to know that The Ex-Cuban Boyfriend now has a New Cuban Girlfriend, although I suspect that The New Cuban Girlfriend was in situ at the same time as me.

In spite of what their devoted European girlfriends might think, most Cuban men seem to run a Cuban and European girlfriend simultaneously, the European Girlfriend unwittingly buying meals, flowers and beer for her Cuban nemesis.

Alas, the Casual Man in Brighton has been on his worst behaviour recently and this week, I’ve been the recipient of a couple of very unwelcome late night visits by this dubious amour.

The first visit happened very inappropriately, the night after a day spent with a severe hangover from the night before. Are you still with me? I was in desperate need of a decent night of sleep, having had very little the previous night. Furthermore, I had to be up at 6am in order to go to work.

The last thing I needed was a huge, reeling drunk launching himself into my bedroom at 1am, which is exactly what happened. Reeking of alcohol and Lord only knows what else – not exactly every girl’s dream combination, I can tell you – The Casual Man threw himself onto the bed.

Alas, I’d spent the previous day moving my bedroom furniture around and the bed was no longer where it had been. The resulting accident could have made top billing on You’ve Been Framed. Needless to say, I went to the spare room – a luxury that I don’t often have. Someone must be watching over me…