Someone – don’t know who – was walking through the office a couple of hours ago, when their phone rang.
Like most mobile phones, it had a customised ringtone.
I only heard the first five seconds, but I knew the tune so well.
“Oh, that’s Ennio Morricone,” I said.
“Umm. It’s Per Q…” I tailed off.
Nope.
Lost it.
Jesus, I know it so well.
Except I didn’t.
I sat at my desk, a smidge of mayonnaise on the corner of my open mouth, while I desperately tried to recall the so well-known piece.
Attractive, huh?
I made ‘Umm, ah, erm’ noises for about five minutes.
I googled Ennio Morricone and looked at a list of his work.
But the full and proper name – the name I know that piece by – avoided my gaze with great dexterity.
I went up a floor and had a meeting with the SO.
I then had a quick chat with someone else about this weekend’s work activities.
I came back down to my floor, unlocked my PC and as I pressed ‘enter’ to accept my password the memory returned.
“That was ‘Per Qualche Dollaro In Più’!” I exclaimed aloud.
To no-one in particular.
And so it was.
Funny how the human mind works, innit?
“Funny how the human mind works, innit?”
Or doesn’t, as the case may be.