Here she comes, the sweetest, sexiest, most loveliest girl in the whole department, the delightful Rachael. What any guy wouldn't give for a date with such a desirable angel.
"There you go, Dave." she says to me. "White with no sugar."
Rachael plonks the coffee down on my desk with a total lack of consideration, her act of indifference results in half the cup's contents spilling into the saucer. Her body language says it all, she'd sooner die than offer me a kiss.
Things are very different when she serves my colleague, the only black guy in the department, a trim and silky smooth operator called Walker. For some reason he never uses his first name, not cool enough I guess.
For Walker, Rachael carries his cup as if it's a precious antique she's holding, gracefully presenting it with the most ultimate care and precision. A five star service no less and without a single drop of coffee being spilled.
"Black and sweet for you, Walker," says Rachael. "And I baked you some cookies."
"Hey! Where's my cookie?" I ask her.
"Huh," she goes. "It's Walker's good lovin' I need."
Walker bursts out laughing and Rachael offers him her best "come get me" look.
"You will see me again tonight, won't you, Walker?" She asks him.
"I'm not sure, babe," he coolly replies. "Maybe another night, eh?"
"Oh pleeease, Walker. Please come see me tonight."
I can't believe I'm hearing this. Just what is his secret? There's scarcely a girl in the whole department that won't drop to her knees and worship at his feet. Now it's perfectly clear he's even added the elusive Rachael to his list.
"How about now, babe?" offers Walker. "In the back office?"
"Oh yes, Walker. Oh yes, yes, yes."
Not again! The redundant back office has become Walker's private love nest, the place where almost every day he satisfies one of his multitude of conquests... sometimes more than one and guess who always has to cover for him?
"OK with you, David?" he asks me.
"Not Rachael as well?" I ask him in reply.
"It's good lovin', David. She needs it. Accept it. It's cool."
"Go on then," I tell them both. "You will anyway."
"Oh thanks, Dave," says Rachael. "Help yourself to one of my cookies."
Great. Walker gets the girl and I get a cookie... and just one!
Walker. It's always Walker.
Walker, Walker, Walker. Even on the train journey home I've got that guy in my head. What is it about him and what's with him always calling me David? I'm Dave, OK? I don't mind a girl calling me David, but a guy? A hunky, good looking black guy? It's not right, it doesn't sound right. It sounds ...
"Morning, David."
"Get stuffed, Walker."
"Ooh, what's up? Jealous are we?"
"I'm married, remember? I'm not interested in Rachael."
"Who's talking about Rachael?"
"What?"
"You heard," he says. "Everyone needs good lovin'. Don't they, David?"
Walker beams me a smile and follows with a wink, then goes about his business handing out the worksheets. Every girl in the department can hardly wait for her copy and the chance of a back office date.
"Oh yes, Walker. Oh yes, yes, yes." I hear today's lucky girl calling out.
But what did he mean earlier? Was he saying I'm ...? That he's also ...? I don't want to even think of the word, let alone say it. Girls, I like girls not guys, I like the soft, gentle curves of my wife.
Walker? He's got to be kidding. And to think we go drinking together, joke together, play squash and then get naked and shower together. He even massaged my shoulders last week, he said I felt good, real good. He felt good to me too, he...
"Anytime you like, David. Rachael will cover for us."
What? And have the whole department know I've turned ...
"It's good lovin', David. We need it. Accept it. It's cool."
Cool for Walker maybe. All the girls are on his list and now he's after me.
Walker. It's always Walker.
Walker, Walker, Walker. Even in bed I've got that guy in my head. I'm thirty years old, I've been married five years and I reckon I've at least another thirty years of marriage ahead of me yet. That's a long, long time to live a lie with my wife and keep denying the truth to myself.
"Darling, I need to tell you something."
"Go on then," says my dear wife.
"I'm going to quit my job. It's Walker, I can't face that guy again."
"Don't be so silly, David."
"What? What do you mean?"
"It's good lovin', David. You need it. Accept it. I have and everything is cool."
"With Walker?"
"Oh yes, with Walker. Oh yes, yes, yes."
Walker. It's always Walker.
Walker, Walker, Walker. Maybe my wife is right. Maybe Walker is right. Maybe I should try some good lovin' with that guy in my head.
David Gaye xxx
"There you go, Dave." she says to me. "White with no sugar."
Rachael plonks the coffee down on my desk with a total lack of consideration, her act of indifference results in half the cup's contents spilling into the saucer. Her body language says it all, she'd sooner die than offer me a kiss.
Things are very different when she serves my colleague, the only black guy in the department, a trim and silky smooth operator called Walker. For some reason he never uses his first name, not cool enough I guess.
For Walker, Rachael carries his cup as if it's a precious antique she's holding, gracefully presenting it with the most ultimate care and precision. A five star service no less and without a single drop of coffee being spilled.
"Black and sweet for you, Walker," says Rachael. "And I baked you some cookies."
"Hey! Where's my cookie?" I ask her.
"Huh," she goes. "It's Walker's good lovin' I need."
Walker bursts out laughing and Rachael offers him her best "come get me" look.
"You will see me again tonight, won't you, Walker?" She asks him.
"I'm not sure, babe," he coolly replies. "Maybe another night, eh?"
"Oh pleeease, Walker. Please come see me tonight."
I can't believe I'm hearing this. Just what is his secret? There's scarcely a girl in the whole department that won't drop to her knees and worship at his feet. Now it's perfectly clear he's even added the elusive Rachael to his list.
"How about now, babe?" offers Walker. "In the back office?"
"Oh yes, Walker. Oh yes, yes, yes."
Not again! The redundant back office has become Walker's private love nest, the place where almost every day he satisfies one of his multitude of conquests... sometimes more than one and guess who always has to cover for him?
"OK with you, David?" he asks me.
"Not Rachael as well?" I ask him in reply.
"It's good lovin', David. She needs it. Accept it. It's cool."
"Go on then," I tell them both. "You will anyway."
"Oh thanks, Dave," says Rachael. "Help yourself to one of my cookies."
Great. Walker gets the girl and I get a cookie... and just one!
Walker. It's always Walker.
Walker, Walker, Walker. Even on the train journey home I've got that guy in my head. What is it about him and what's with him always calling me David? I'm Dave, OK? I don't mind a girl calling me David, but a guy? A hunky, good looking black guy? It's not right, it doesn't sound right. It sounds ...
"Morning, David."
"Get stuffed, Walker."
"Ooh, what's up? Jealous are we?"
"I'm married, remember? I'm not interested in Rachael."
"Who's talking about Rachael?"
"What?"
"You heard," he says. "Everyone needs good lovin'. Don't they, David?"
Walker beams me a smile and follows with a wink, then goes about his business handing out the worksheets. Every girl in the department can hardly wait for her copy and the chance of a back office date.
"Oh yes, Walker. Oh yes, yes, yes." I hear today's lucky girl calling out.
But what did he mean earlier? Was he saying I'm ...? That he's also ...? I don't want to even think of the word, let alone say it. Girls, I like girls not guys, I like the soft, gentle curves of my wife.
Walker? He's got to be kidding. And to think we go drinking together, joke together, play squash and then get naked and shower together. He even massaged my shoulders last week, he said I felt good, real good. He felt good to me too, he...
"Anytime you like, David. Rachael will cover for us."
What? And have the whole department know I've turned ...
"It's good lovin', David. We need it. Accept it. It's cool."
Cool for Walker maybe. All the girls are on his list and now he's after me.
Walker. It's always Walker.
Walker, Walker, Walker. Even in bed I've got that guy in my head. I'm thirty years old, I've been married five years and I reckon I've at least another thirty years of marriage ahead of me yet. That's a long, long time to live a lie with my wife and keep denying the truth to myself.
"Darling, I need to tell you something."
"Go on then," says my dear wife.
"I'm going to quit my job. It's Walker, I can't face that guy again."
"Don't be so silly, David."
"What? What do you mean?"
"It's good lovin', David. You need it. Accept it. I have and everything is cool."
"With Walker?"
"Oh yes, with Walker. Oh yes, yes, yes."
Walker. It's always Walker.
Walker, Walker, Walker. Maybe my wife is right. Maybe Walker is right. Maybe I should try some good lovin' with that guy in my head.
David Gaye xxx
