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Deborah Tavistock's Problem.

By Alex Keegan

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Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to the Allen Bath Centre, your premiere centre for Kraftmaid and Woodmode cabinets, Corian work-surfaces, and…
Um, is there a toilet?
Behind reception, Sir.
Ta.
… Corian work-surfaces, and…
Is there more than one?
Sorry, Madam?
Toilet?
Behind reception, madam, where the gentleman –
Yes, but is there more than one?
Madam?
Toilet. Is there more than one?
Why?
Well, I don’t want to follow some big lump of a man into the lav, do I? Some ox who farts and has B.O. and probably shits half-way up the wall.
Errr…
Some utter bastard who has been fucking –
Er, ladies and gentlemen, if you’ll just follow my colleague. I’ll just take madam through.

Jesus, Deborah, what’s Joe done this time?
He’s screwing the au pair.
Well, of course he’s screwing the au pair. That’s what they’re for.
This is a guy, Frank.
Joe is balling a guy?
He’s Latvian. He’s absolutely gorgeous, Frank. I’m devastated.
Devastated?
It was my turn, Frank. Joe said, get yerself some strapping wop, to help round the house, that’s what he said, or some young stud from one of the new EC countries. Get yerself some twenty year old with pecs and a six-pack and a big dong. I doan mind.
And you did?
Yeah, Rodrika, from Latvia, from Riga. But now Joe is –
Rogering Rodrika?
In one.
But I thought Joe was, you know, normal, like orientated the right way.
So did I. But this Roderika, he’s, well Frank, he’s sex on legs. I –
Oh, don’t fucking CRY, Debs. I gotta business to run ‘ere.
Sorry.
Coffee?
Please.

So what am I supposed to do, Debs? I’m Joe’s brother, not his bleeding mother. And why do you always pull the fucking excuse me where’s the toilet stunt? Do you know how tight business is these days?

You never answered the phone. I texted you twenty-three times.
I was –
I know where you was. Marika, right?
Bosnia. Loverley girl.
Well, at least yer putting it in the correct hole. Press Button B and all that.
We try to please, Debs.
What am I gonna do, Frank?

The population of Latvia is two million, three hundred and six thousand, three hundred and six. Fifty-seven point seven per cent of them are Latvians, which means there’s one million, three hundred and thirty thousand, seven hundred and thirty-eight Latvians, with an odd point five-six-two of a person to figure out. Now whether that means there’s a dismembered publican from Rezekne or some very odd looking bloke in Valmiera, or there’s some mixed-race stuff going on, I don’t really know, but let me tell you, Deborah, Latvian blokes, they peg out awful early. They outnumber the girls when they pop into this world, but fuck me they fall like flies thereafter. By the time they get to sixty-five the women out-number them two to one.
And how is that going to help me?
Oh, I doan know, but it’s interesting innit?
Do I have to phone Doris?
Leave Doris out of this, Debs. I said I’ll help you out. I just can’t figure how.
I have needs Frank. Insatiable needs.
I’ve heard.
So think of something.
Well, can’t you send the Riga Rigger packing? Just ring the agency and say he’s not up to scratch?
He’s gorgeous, Frank.
So what he’s bloody gorgeous. He’s a shirt-lifter intee? What good’s he to you?
He’s a nice boy.
He’s a nice boy?
He’s a nice boy.
Excuse me, Mrs. bloody Tavistock, but this nice “boy” is fucking your old man.
Well he has needs.
But he’s –
And he cleans brilliantly, sings like an angel, cooks. And he never complains.
So he’s perfect except for the fact he’s fucking yer husband and you can’t get a look in?
That’s about the size of it.
Leave size out of it, Debs, if yer don’t mind.
And I just want some.
But he’s a bender Deborah. You know, a woolly-pully, a turd-burglar.
Patrick FitzJohn and John Fitzpatrick.
He might be, you know, ambi-sexual.
Ambi what?
Like, you know, do it either way, boys, girls, sheep.
You wish.
Well, Roddie is always smiling at me, and when I come back from Weight-Watchers he always offers to give me a massage.
So why haven’t you said yes?
Well, I have, but Joe is so jealous, you know, and I don’t want to upset him, not after what happened with that Ukranian basketball team.

 

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Alex Keegan is occasionally serious and writes a lot of stuff. Some of it is almost OK and his website is http://www.alexkeegan.com.  He runs a writers group which is seriously helpful but definitely kick-ass called Boot Camp.

 


(c) Defenestration Magazine, 2004