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◄ Pete Writes: Dia del amor y la amistad, amigo secreto

Now obviously I don't want to let you people in on more than you might reasonably want to know about me. I like to maintain an aura of mystery, insofar as that's possible. But surely we're all friends, and adults to boot? Sophisticated denizens of a bright new century who can speak openly and frankly about the situations that life puts us in? Able to engage in mature and sensible discourse without fear of condemnation or censure? That's us to a Mr T. So here's a glimpse into a place few (if any) have had the dubious pleasure of experiencing, namely my bed shortly after Lisa and I have had some sex. Before you click away in disgust let me assure you that all the unsavoury business with wet patches and squelching has been dealt with; we're basking in the post-coital glow that lasts for a few precious minutes before I inevitably fall asleep.

P: Mmmmmm.
L: Mmmmm. That was nice.
P: Nice? What are you saying, woman? It was excellent. I'm excellent in bed. I'm the King of Sex.
L: Yes, you keep saying. I'm still not convinced.
P: Yes you are. That's why you keep coming back for more. Plus, I've got that crown.
L: Mmmm. Yeah. But I told you not to mention the crown. It freaks me out.
P: Fair enough.

Pause.

L: I'm pretty excellent as well.
P: Yep.

More pause.

P: I'm better though, obviously.

Yet more pause.

L: (slightly irked) How are you better?
P: Well don't get all arsey... we just have different roles, that's all. Different parts to play, you know? And my role is slightly more important than yours.
L: (definitely pissed off now) What are you talking about?
P: Don't get me wrong, you're absolutely vital to the process; it couldn't happen without you...
L: Oh, thanks. Very generous.
P: But it's like... I'm Morecambe. And you're Wise.

Baffled pause.

L: What?
P: I'm the funny one and you're the straight man. We're both as important as each other; it's just that I'm the one that people remember. I'm the one that gets all the laughs, so to speak.
L: Yeeess... look, what are you talking about? Exactly?
P: It's an analogy. Keep up.
L: So you're saying that our sex life is like being Morecambe and Wise.
P: Yes. No. It's just that... in any activity involving two people there's going to be division of labour. One person has to take the lion's share of the work. And that's me.
L: With all your humping?
P: Well, there's a bit more to it than that, but in essence, yes.
L: I see.
P: (realising that he's on thin ice) Like I said, you're very necessary. Everybody needs a straight man to have sex with, otherwise I'd just be humping thin air. And that's no kind of fun; just ask Dan. And you provide vital oohs and ahhs that keep me motivated and prevent my mind from wandering.
L: So you're saying that you're better than me.
P: That's not what I said! You're twisting my words!
L: Yes it is. That's exactly what you said.
P: OK, that is what I said. But that's not what I'm saying now. You're very good at what you do. Very. It's not like we're Hale and Pace. We're top grade stuff, we could go on at the Royal Variety Performance, in front of the Queen...
L: Can we leave off the comedy thing? Jesus.
P: All I'm saying is that the male role is, by definition more involved than the female. It requires more exertion, more concentration... there's no comparison, really.
L: What? Like in Clerks? Because people will say that you just lifted this whole bit from that movie.
P: I know. But this is a real conversation that actually happened; it's hardly my fault if it touches on similar themes to certain films that I shan't mention.

Massive, Harold Pinter-style pause.

L: You're rubbish, aren't you?
P: I may very well be.

Fin.

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