Pulse

he had sex on the brain.’
    ‘The worst place to have it, as one sage remarked.’
    ‘Love.’
    ‘Bless you. Gesundheit .’
    ‘I read somewhere that in France, when a chap’s flies were undone, another chap’s polite way of drawing attention to it was to say, “ Vive l’Empereur .” Not that I’ve ever heard anyone say it. Or really understood it.’
    ‘Maybe the end of your knob is meant to look like the top of Napoleon’s head.’
    ‘Speak for yourself.’
    ‘Or that hat he always wears in cartoons.’
    ‘I hate that word “knob”. I hate it even more as a verb than a noun. “He knobbed her.” Eurch.’
    ‘Love.’
    ‘…’
    ‘…’
    ‘…’
    ‘Good. I’m glad I’ve got your attention. It’s what we don’t talk about. Love.’
    ‘Whoa. Steady on, old chap. Mustn’t frighten the horses and all that.’
    ‘Larry will bear me out. As our resident alien.’
    ‘You know, when I first came over here, the things I noticed most were how you were always making jokes, and how often you use the C-word.’
    ‘Don’t you use the C-word in America?’
    ‘I guess we certainly avoid it in the presence of women.’
    ‘How very peculiar. And richly ironic, if you don’t mind my saying.’
    ‘But Larry, you prove my point. We make jokes instead of being serious, and we talk about sex instead of talking about love.’
    ‘I think jokes are a good way of being serious. Often the best way.’
    ‘Only an Englishman would think that, or say that.’
    ‘Are you wanting me to apologise for being English, or something?’
    ‘Don’t get so defensive.’
    ‘Are you calling me a cunt by any chance?’
    ‘Men talk about sex, women talk about love.’
    ‘Bollocks.’
    ‘Well, why hasn’t a woman spoken in the last however many minutes?’
    ‘I was wondering if the size of a woman’s hands was related to the amount she has to use them in bed with her husband.’
    ‘Dick, shut the fuck up.’
    ‘Boys. Shh. Neighbours. Voices carry much more at this time of night.’
    ‘Joanna, tell us what you think.’
    ‘Why me?’
    ‘Because I asked.’
    ‘Very well. I don’t think there was a time – not in my life, anyway – when men and women sat around in a group talking about love. It’s true we talk about sex a lot more – or rather, we listen to you talk about sex a lot more. I also think – well, it’s practically a cliché now – that if women knew how men talked about them behind their backs they wouldn’t find it very elevating. And if men knew how women talked about them behind their backs –’
    ‘It’d be dick-shrivelling.’
    ‘Women can fake it, men can’t. It’s the law of the jungle.’
    ‘The law of the jungle is rape, not faked orgasm.’
    ‘A human being is the only creature which can reflect upon its own existence, conceive of its own death, and fake orgasm. We’re not God’s special ones for nothing.’
    ‘A man can fake orgasm.’
    ‘Really? Willing to share the secret?’
    ‘A woman doesn’t always know if a man has come. From internal feeling, I mean.’
    ‘That’s another hands-under-the-table moment.’
    ‘Well, a man can’t fake erection , anyway.’
    ‘The cock never lies.’
    ‘The sun also rises.’
    ‘What’s the connection?’
    ‘Oh, both sound like book titles. Only one is.’
    ‘Actually, the cock does lie.’
    ‘Are we sure we want to go there?’
    ‘First-night nerves. It’s not that you don’t want to, it’s just that your cock lets you down. It lies.’
    ‘Love.’
    ‘An old friend of ours – she’s a New Yorker – worked as a lawyer for years and years – decided to retrain by going to film school. She was in her fifties already. And she found herself surrounded by kids thirty years younger than her. And she used to listen to them, and sometimes they confided in her about their lives, and you know what she concluded? That they didn’t think twice about going to bed with someone, but they were really, really scared of getting close, or of anyone getting close to them.’
    ‘The point being?’
    ‘They were afraid of love. Afraid of … dependency. Or having someone dependent on them. Or both.’
    ‘Afraid of pain.’
    ‘Afraid of anything that would interfere with their careers, more like. You know, New York …’
    ‘Maybe. But I think Sue’s right. Afraid of pain.’
    ‘Last time – or the time before – someone was asking if there was cancer of the heart. Of course there is. And it’s called love.’
    ‘Do