Low life
When the Sominex fails
Jeffrey Bernard
I was also slightly amazed to think about the Bible's teaching on the subject of fideli- ty and adultery, especially in view of the recent behaviour of the Deputy Governor of the Bank of England. Why on earth do people expect so much moral fortitude from these people? One of the more sus- pect aspects to me of the Labour Party is that it produces no Profumos or Parkin- sons, but just people — brandy-drinkers like, Harold Wilson — who always drink pints of bitter pretending to be working class.
Twenty three years ago I was locked up in an addiction unit with the most awful snob who drank Boots surgical spirit insist- ing that Timothy Whites and Taylors surgi- cal spirit was infra dig. He is probably now working for the Bank of England or is a Labour MP. But in the end I wouldn't trust a man less because he was having an extra- marital affair any more than I would trust any of the other 600-odd Members of Par- liament. I would like to think that Mr Lee- son, who I am beginning to think was only guilty of backing a loser, had added some spice to the monetary boredom of his life, but then women are so in touch with reality • and can spot a loser from 100 miles away. It may bore or even surprise some read- ers of this column to know that I was never unfaithful to any of my four ex-wives until they beat me to the punch and were first unfaithful to me. This was, needless to say, not because I held a Cabinet post in the Government or had any authority with the Bank of England. It was more of a practical approach, not a moral one, and I learnt my lesson many years before that when I had two girlfriends at the same time and spent all day trying in my narrow circle to keep them from meeting each other.
And now, not only do we again have an adulterer in our midst, but a rapist as well. Although it is fairly obvious to most of us that Mike Tyson is an animal of sorts, I never for a second trusted the young woman who went up to his apartment at 2 a.m. expecting tea and cakes or a chat from a Dutch uncle and who is now trying to take him for every cent he has got. She will have to be lucky to be fast enough to get it before that ex-gangster, Don King, gets it' all. Instinct, and not a profound knowledge of the facts, tells me that if,she genuinely thought that Tyson wanted to chat to her at 2 a.m., then she must have been as naïve as the nutcase who jumped in the tiger's cage at Regents Park Zoo. All it requires now is for someone with his eye on the main chance to make Tyson .a member of Lloyds and to persuadt- him to start buying derivatives. He could do worse than join Lloyds by joining the Colony Room Club or the Groucho Club. He would do well in the Groucho to persuade any of the female members there to go up to his room at 2 p.m. never mind 2 a.m. Mind you, it would take one of the Groucho star- fuckers less time to bring him to his knees than anything or anyone he might meet in a ring.
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