“I’ve never seen a balloon cause so much trouble!”
“I know, right?” she said to me.
We had just finished watching the 1956 French classic Le Balloon Rouge, or The Red Balloon.
“That kid got into so much trouble!” she said. I nodded. “How did you know there was so little dialogue?”
“Someone told me.” I had come up with the idea of creating our own soundtrack to it, side two of Françoise Hardy’s Maid in Paris, then side one of the Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin record.
“It made it more fun, didn’t it?”
“Even though we could use the money.”
“Money can’t replace the beauty of those records.”
Someone had just offered me a shit-ton of money for my collection of record française. Yeah right, like I would part with them.
“Yeah right, like I would part with them. I lugged half of them all the way across Montreal, and most of the others, I left clothing behind in Paris for those. They are definitely worth more than money to me.”
“Me too. They’re half the reason I liked you at first.”
“Fine, that’s a lie, but on the first date it is how you lured me back to your place. French records, a little wine, you sure know how to make a girl melt.”
“You’d be surprised how often that line works. I have a nice collection of French records at my place…”
“Nice.” She frowned. “Wait, you are kidding, right?”
“Of course. I’ve never shared these records with another woman.” She looked at me. “What?”
“Not as much as me, right?” she said, grabbing my arm and pulling me into her arms.
“Nope!” I said as I kissed her. We made out for a bit until the needle started scratching against nothing, then returned to its arm rest.
“Should I flip it?” she asked. “Or should we maybe watch the movie again with the real audio, just to see if the effect is different?”
I smiled and picked up the remote to start the movie again. The balloon once again floated down to the little boy and I laughed as he was once again told he could not bring it on the bus, thus being late for school again.
“I’ve never seen a balloon cause so much trouble.”