Bit-o-banter

Sitting on my own, looking out of the window at the incoming tide, sipping a beer, and reading my emails, I couldn't help overhearing the bar staff.

A quartet of females, chatting about men. So frank and friendly. Comments cut through the background music, like – only want one thing – they either think you're frigid, or a whore.

One or two of the local lads came out well from the discussion, but they shone like a beacon on a foul night.

A few days later, I found myself one of four men at a dinner table. I had come prepared for an hour or two of verbal competition and character dismantling.

After the preliminary comments about government and the state of the economy, one of my fellow diners looked at me and said – it's alright for you, raking it in with your latest book.

I think you're confusing me with someone who's famous, I replied.

He always reminded me of Shakespeare's Falstaff, which gave me much private amusement. However, I was totally unprepared for his next pointed comment.

So how's your sex life Tom?

Still get it up can you?

My mind searched its archives for a suitable repost, I couldn't remember his daughter's name, so through half a mouthful, I mumbled – fine.

Professor Higgins said – why can't a woman be more like a man?

Maybe the question should be reversed......