2001-02
Semester 1
Week 5
Sunday
It’s Sunday evening, halfway through the first semester of Ren’s second year at Grayvington, and Ren has asked Miles to join him at the pub.
‘Where’s Lucy?’ Miles asks when he arrives.
‘We broke up this afternoon,’ says Ren.
‘That’s too bad. She was nice. Can I fuck her now?’
‘No.’
‘You forbid it. I understand.’
‘No, she just wouldn’t have you, that’s all. I’ve spoiled her for other men.’
‘Meaning you’ve somehow rendered her unattractive to other men, or that other men cannot satisfy her after you?’
‘The latter.’
‘Strange. Most girls don’t like halfwits who wear ladies’ panties.’
‘You don’t need to tell me. Being honest on lonely hearts ads isn’t a good idea.’
‘So you broke up with her, then?’
‘No, she broke up with me.’
‘Has she spoiled you for other librarians now?’
‘No, I’m always up for a spot of rumpy behind the stacks with a pair of glasses. But librarians are sensitive creatures. Too sensitive for brutes like me.’
‘Was it your politics? Your refusal to be left-wing in front her friends?’
‘Actually she didn’t mind that. What she couldn’t take in the end was my endless questioning of everything she said.’
‘I could see that would be a problem with you.’
‘That’s what philosophers do, though.
‘They’re annoying arseholes?’
‘It’s what academics in general do, so don’t think you’re exempt. But yes, particularly philosophers. Always questioning everything.’
‘But there are times and places for that. Perhaps not on a romantic date. Perhaps not in the bedroom.’
‘I’m not like that in the bedroom. It’s the day to day stuff she doesn’t like. She doesn’t understand that for a philosopher, analysing, questioning, even attacking what has been said, is normal. It doesn’t mean you have a low opinion of what was said. In a way it’s a sign of respect that you engage with the person and what they’re claiming. That’s what we teach first-years right from the start. If a philosophy lecturer, or a fellow philosophy student, critically analyses what you’ve said, that isn’t an insult.’
‘Or it isn’t necessarily an insult.’
‘Okay, yes. It takes students a while to cope with it, but they do, and they’re better off for it. You need to be able to cope with criticism in life. You’ll get worse thrown at you in real life. It’s good to be able to have the resources to deal with that, and hold your own, without breaking down in a pile of tears because someone criticised what you said. Of course the progressives will eventually kill it, but for now it’s a good thing for students to be exposed to criticism.’
‘Yeah, especially seeing as students are supposed to be the best and brightest. You’re hardly the best and the brightest if you can’t cope with a bit of criticism.’
‘Not sure “the best and the brightest” really describes our students,’ says Ren.
‘True, but still, there’s not much point doing an Arts degree if you can’t handle a disagreement.’
‘Definitely.’
‘So Lucy has disappointed you. Mind you, she wasn’t a student herself, so you didn’t have that mandate for critical analysis of her conversation.’
‘I wasn’t trying to teach her. I was just being myself. People always say you should be yourself.’
‘Oh, that doesn’t apply in your case. You should never be yourself.’
‘I’ve had this feeling that I’d forgotten something. Maybe that was it.’
‘You’re also a total pedant. That’s something that philosophers have that most other academics don’t. You’re all pedants. Especially you. Doesn’t go down too well with the ladies. Critical analysis is one thing. Endless pedantry is another.’
‘Even my humorous pedantry?’
‘Especially your humorous pedantry. A pedant who’s an earnest bore she could probably take. But the endless hilarious pedantry at her expense she couldn’t, I expect.’
‘It was only occasional. And mostly not at her expense.’
‘Still. She was a sensitive thing, as you say. Was she good in bed?
‘Heavens to Betsy, Miles, a gentlemen does not kiss and tell. Shame on you for asking, you cad.’
‘Sorry. So are you cut up about it?’
‘A bit, yeah, but it wasn’t like it was ever going to be a long-term relationship. But I’m down enough to want to drink tonight.’
‘As opposed to when you’re happy so you want a drink to celebrate? Ren the Celebrator is in the house. Well, at least you won’t have to put up with any more pictures of pussies.’
‘You’re referring, I hope, to the cute cat pictures she liked to stick onto everything?’
‘Despite what you think, I am a gentlemen, and that is what I was referring to. I will not pry into any snap-snap grin-grin Polaroid-type activities, or ask for a look.’
Ren gets some drinks in.
‘So how’s it going with Andrea?’ Ren asks. Andrea works for the Council.
‘Ahhh… I was hoping you weren’t going to ask me that.’
‘Problemo?’
‘Sort of. Let’s see. As you self-identify as a gentleman, despite much evidence to the contrary, I shall but faintly allude to the fact that she’s good in bed.’
‘That’s not faintly alluding to it, that’s baldly stating it.’
‘Whatever. She’s a firecracker in the sack. Insane. But she has all these animal rights posters all over her flat.’
‘As in appeals to save cute fluffy animals? Or militant “Kill all the animal-testers” posters?’
‘You might say they’re from the more radical end of the spectrum.’
‘You sure can pick ‘em. Does she go on about it a lot?’
‘Surprisingly no. She hardly mentions it.’
‘But it’s going to be a problem, isn’t it, seeing as you work in a department that contains numerous monkey-torturers?’
‘Could be.’
‘Has she asked about that?’
‘In passing. I’ve played it down. Important research and all that. Which it is.’
‘Right. Well, I don’t like to interfere…’
‘You think I should dump her?’
‘That’s your business. But there are numerous cliches appropriate for such situations. Don’t let the little head, book and covers, and all that. I know she’s good-looking, but…’
‘She does seem very keen on me.’
‘Lots of girls are keen on you, pretty-boy.’
‘She even likes to come in and see me at work.’
‘Well, it is a fascinating building. All those endless, flouro-lit, dirty corridors in a horrible sixties building. What more could a girl want?’
‘She really comes in because she likes to…’
‘What?’
‘Well…’
‘You mean in your office? What have I told you about being a gentleman? No kissy telly. You’re not Cosmopolitan magazine. And remind me never to sit on a chair in your office again.’
‘By the way, speaking of girlfriends, I have some news about Tanja.’
‘She’s moved to London?’
‘No. She’s found a new boyfriend.’
‘Whoopie-do. Oh. Is it someone we know then?’
‘Tony Shaver.’
‘His full name is Tony Fucking Shaver. Oh God. Tony Fucking Shaver. Shite. I thought I’d never have to see her again. Jesus, it’s my fault, I told her that Tony Fucking Shaver was someone more sympathetic to what she was talking about. She’s probably gone and sought him out. Should have kept my fucking trap shut. Flub-a-dub. So anyway, where’s Andrea tonight?’
‘She’s, er… she’s away.’
‘You’re hiding something. Where is she?’
‘Just a thing she’s got on.’
‘Right. Let me guess. An animal-rights convention? A Socialist Workers Party meeting?’
‘Just some sort of animal-rights meetup. Nothing big.’
‘What is to become of you? Why can’t you find a semi-normal woman and not an escapee from your labs? You want a relationship, not a test subject to write a thesis on.’
‘Like you could have resisted what she was doing to me at that party.’
‘Have your drunken shag, sure, but you don’t have to keep going out with a woman just because she took you into the broom closet at a party and used the vacuum cleaner as a sex aid, or whatever she did.’
‘This is still just a shag. Only a somewhat extended one. Also, she has plenty of coke.’
‘Isn’t she just a bag of fun? Is that why your eyes are bloodshot?’
‘Are they?’
‘You look like you have conjunctivitis.’
‘That’s my story.’
‘So. All it is, you’re saying, is a shag, and you just haven’t quite got around to telling her the shag is finished?’
‘I will tell her. When she gets back.’
‘Unless she comes back with some more coke?’
‘It will die soon enough. It’s purely physical. These things burn out.’
‘So do your nostrils.’
‘If finding a semi-normal woman is so easy, where are yours?’
‘You had to bring that up. I don’t charm them out of the trees to the extent you do.’
‘I’m just going to suck the marrow out of life for a bit longer, that’s all.’
‘Just as long as the police don’t have to break in to find her and her mates on the floor sucking the marrow out of your bones.’
‘Oh pish posh, stop being such an old woman. She’s a healthy young woman who likes to fuck, as is right and proper, and I am obliging her.’
‘Or, she’s a right lunatic who’s up to no good who likes to fuck.’
‘The common denominator is the important bit.’
‘Okay. It’s your dick.’
‘It goes wherever I go, so that’s a safe assumption.’
‘I’m sure it will look nice on her mantelpiece.’
‘Mantelpiece, what a good idea. We haven’t done it there yet.’
‘What do your monkey torturers do to their monkeys? Do you think she’ll try to recreate that with you once she’s got you tied up?’
‘I’ve told her I love animals.’
‘She’s vegan, right?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you have meat in your fridge when she comes around?’
‘Yes.’
‘It was nice knowing you, Miles. Get us a round in before she ransacks your bank account.’
