Pinna: On a Learning Curve

Pinna

Pinna

Pinna.   I’m back.

Me.        Oh god! How do you get in here? Where’s the hole? I’ve looked everywhere.

Pinna.   Why, you planning to block my way?

Me.        Well, it has crossed my mind. You have my head in a bloody tizz with all your mumbo-jumbo.

Pinna.   You want that I should leave? I can try and find someone else.

Me.        I don’t know. I have all this info and I can’t tell a soul, not even my best friends.

Pinna.   But you’re doing a blog, is that not releasing the pressure?

Me.        It’s the personal shit about the big knobs. What am I supposed to do with that info?

Pinna.   You prefer I didn’t mention any of it?

Me.        I don’t know. In some ways it’s a lark to know they’re basic and trashy, but who do I tell.

Pinna.   You could tell a little white lie and say you heard it on the grapevine.

Me.        Nah, it’s too juicy. My mates would hound me for details.

Pinna.   Ah, that gives me a problem. I witnessed an incident involving a government minister, which I don’t understand fully and, another involving a trade union boss.

Me.        Shit! Is it juicy?

Pinna.   Well, yes, but it has me perplexed.

Me.        I’m gonna regret this, aren’t I? Go on, fire.

Pinna.   Well, the minister is in his office when in walks this smartly dressed woman. She strips naked and then straps a dildo round herself and proceeds to have intercourse with him.

Me.        Fucking hell! That’s unusual. Haven’t heard that one before.

Pinna.   He pays her £400 and writes their next appointment in his diary.

Me.        400 quid! How long was she there? I’m in the wrong fucking job.

Pinna.   The whole episode lasted approximately 20 minutes.

Me.        Wow! Anyway that’s easy; she’s a prostitute, obviously high class at that money. She’s not taking notes and I doubt she’s a therapist. It’s straightforward shagging mate.

Pinna.   That’s the word, shagging, that ties in with the other incident with the trade union boss but I’ll come to that. What had me perplexed was that if he prefers sex in that fashion, why not have a male partner.

Me.        Oh, I see what you mean. Mm. A male partner would make sense. Obviously the guy’s married. To a woman or maybe not. Mm. It starts to get murky. Yeah, with a male partner there is no need for secrecy, they could spend all their time together, day and night.

Pinna.   The cost is two thousand pounds for an overnight session.

Me.        What! Two fucking grand for an all-nighter. Soft git must have more money than sense. Two fucking grand; bloody hell! Would you believe it?

Pinna.   Yes. But what of the subterfuge?

Me.        I need a minute to think. My head’s boggled with the dosh involved. You see what you do to me? Wait a minute. It could be any number of things. He has a partner and they’re loaded.

Pinna.   Loaded?

Me.        Lots of money, dosh, you know. Let me think; if he’s married she holds the purse strings so he can’t afford to come out the closet.

Pinna.   What closet?

Me.        Shush! Can’t afford to say he’s really gay or bisexual. He needs to keep it quiet, the old QT. She might be someone important. A divorce would be a scandal; he could lose his job, power position and his place in society. Wow! He’d be one of us then, shit.

Pinna.   Why not a male prostitute?

Me.        I don’t know, length, length of time. Some kind of fantasy. But then if his partner is male… He might be famous which leads to a scandal again or he might kick the crap out of him. That’s it! He doesn’t want a scandal because he won’t get elected again.

Pinna.   But why a female prostitute?

Me.        That is a puzzle mate. Wait a minute. If he’s caught with a female, nobody needs to know the sordid details, so most, especially males would just brush it off. It’s a man thing, sort of thing.

Pinna.   You mean it’s a male dominated society therefore it is excusable? That makes me think of your religions.

Me.        What! How the hell does religion get into it? We’re not talking about that or we’ll end up in a fight.

Pinna.   I’m piecing together your culture of male dominance and religion helps me grasp why the male / female relationship is so persistent.

Me.        You talk such crap sometimes. Women are free today to make their own minds up.

Pinna.   Perhaps some are, but many others are restricted by religion. Religion I have come to observe is like a men’s club with waitresses.

Me.        Whoa, I’m not getting into religion with you. No way!

Pinna.   That’s okay, for now I understand the second puzzle that troubled me, the one concerning the Union boss.

Me.        Oh yeah, what was that?

Pinna.   It was a conversation he held with a colleague. He said that if he doesn’t shag his new secretary by the end of the week, he’ll join a monastery.

Me.        Ha, ha, you finally made me laugh. What’s so perplexing about that?

Pinna.   Two things, one I didn’t understand the slang and secondly, his position, what he is                     supposed to promote. What he says in public as opposed to his private thoughts.

Me.        Oh shit! That’s another minefield. Can we do this some other time?