Back Door Lover
The other day my oldest friend, Billy gave me a badge. Ironic, historic, iconic-a must for the Musee Festing. The badge celebrated Muddy Waters singing Back Door Lover. Now in these enlightened times you may think that’s code for some gay pastime. No way Hose. The back door lover came round when the husband had left by the front. He was that bit on the side.
Now I am approaching old age(70 the gateway) I can confess to having been a back door lover. The most significant was just after university. I left and went on a two month tour of Canada. Came back. No job. A friend of a friend suggested there was easy money in joining a selling crew up in North London. We offered punters in the street a free cooking demo, free prizes and a good night out. If they bought the steam cooking kit we got a good commission. Some days we made very good money.
Like all salesmen that meant celebration. In 1968 that meant the Playboy Club in Park Lane. The bunnies strutted,music did play and the dancers did whirl. One of the dancers was my team leader’s wife , a good looking woman about ten years older(32). This was a time when I could get an erection by thinking of Polo(the mint with the hole). But she seemed to like that kind of thing.
One dance led to another. Closer and closer we smooched. It was a time you didn’t go outside to smoke but to kiss another man’s wife. We went outside. We danced some more, we talked, we plotted. She lived in Portsmouth, her husband was hardly ever home. I would go down.
Such a night it really was,and there was more than one. I remember it started on a windy stony beach. And ended in the softest arms. She wanted what I had, it’s a classic firework. I cant even remember her name but she brought me on in a way only an older woman can. Back door lover.
And as the song goes
In the morning the rooster crow/Something tell me I got to go.
She could be in her eighties . I wonder if she remembers this back door lover? I’m sure I wasn’t the only one. Thank goodness she saved the last dance for me.