I just have to tell you about a trip I recently made to Brighton, on some book signing thing.

Driving has never been a favourite pass-time of mine, so when it comes to long distances I usually press gang a pal of mine into doing the motoring. He owes me some money and as he’s skint most of the time, it’s services rendered or nowt – at least I don’t charge him 1000% interest, before all you Guardian readers start jumping up and down, besides true friendship is nothing more than licensed abuse anyway.

Now, Brummie Colin is a ladies man or at least the middle aged Boy Band sort, if you get my drift. Hair falling out, shirt out and still believing that a 21 year old nubile beauty is going to fancy him. Me now, I’m a realist. The last woman who made a pass at me was in her eighties and firmly imbedded in an invalid scooter, so I know my place.

Anyway, I might not have been paying him wages but I still had to fork up for all expenses. Being the mean sort, I’d booked us into a B&B for the night (actually, these days B&B’s are more like plush hotels, £150 a night some of them!).

Brummie Colin of course couldn’t resist the bright lights of Brighton, while I could. So that evening off he went ‘on the pull’ while I stayed in the room and read myself to sleep.

The following morning he appeared at the breakfast table, slightly the worse for wear but as always beaming his infectious Black Country smile. After he had sat down he said, ‘ funny shampoo they’ve got here, Julian. Couldn’t get any lather at all. It’s left my hair all greasy. I mean look at it, won’t be using that stuff again.’

I stared at my friend and wondered if I had heard him correctly. ‘Was it one of those blue sachets?’ I asked, trying not to laugh.

‘Yes, I think so. Why?

‘Because they contain KY Jelly, you fool. You’re in Brighton, the Gay capital of the UK, for God’s sake!’

He shouldn’t have gone out ‘on the pull’ with his shirt hanging out either!

It’s all true too.

Julian Ruck – Editor