Page 101 of Don't You Forget About Me

When his eyes meet mine, Lucas makes a neck slashing gesture at me and I do a subtle head shaking, ‘leave it,’ two handed, palms down wave. Dragging him off stage now would end up being a scene. A bigger scene than the one Robin has in store? I don’t know.

‘Have you heard the phrase “teachable moment”? It used to be one for education wonks, now it’s something that comes up in Ted Talks, and political long reads,’ Robin says. ‘The idea is that it’s a window of opportunity, an unplanned event or experience which provides the chance for growth. But for the moment to teach you, you have to be open to its lesson. You have to recognise that it is one.’

Robin unscrews the cap on a bottle of water, handed to him by Gareth, who thinks he’s booked Ricky Gervais here. He isn’t using notes.

Why did I talk about Robin, WHY? I’ve left myself so compromised by it.In the middle of a mess, saying it’s not my fault, making excuses.This is me. There’s no longer any denying it. God, the idea that Robin fucking McNee gets to bring me to this point of utterly deflated self-awareness. Just when I thought I might be turning things around.

‘It made me wonder: what have been the teachable moments in my life, which I missed?’ He sets the bottle down. ‘I was dating a girl who came up to me after a show, and told me she liked my work. She was smart, interesting. A cynical under-achiever who has seen my act and is still prepared to sleep with me, just my type. Aaaaand she was way out of my league. I hate that phrase, makes you sound like you believe in eugenics, doesn’t it? Use your own shorthand here for: “People would think I won her in a competition.”’

Everyone laughs, in a gentle, beguiled way. Like they’re squirrels and he’s feeding them nuts. ‘Cynical under-achiever’, you shit. Look at how he slipped the knife under the rib cage there, with a flick of the wrist so small and fast that it goes unnoticed by everyone but its intended target.

‘We went on an early date to see the newBlade Runner. We settle down to watch it and will inevitably discuss how sequels are always inferior, afterwards. Five minutes into the film, we hear a man, somewhere behind us, say “HE’S A ROBOT!” We glance at each other, ignore it. Again, someone is on screen, he trills: “ROOOOOW-BOT!” like it’s a spoiler. Followed by giggling. We glance again. Uh oh. Is this a ringtone irritant, a sodcaster, a chattering millennial who thinks he’s in front of Netflix at home? Or is he someone with mental impairments? The doubt is landing your woke lefty with a conscience here in a tricky spot. So I do what all middle-aged, middle class men do in such situations, I silently panic and hope a proper adult comes along and deals with it.’

Laughter.

‘Unfortunately, the man doesn’t let up. Whatever and whoever comes on screen, there’s a comment. Now his voice sounds mocking, sarcastic. “SEXY GIRL.” “NICE CAR.” All I can think of is a joke about how I don’t think much to the director’s commentary edition.’ He twinkles at the admiring crowd. ‘Never come to a comedian in a crisis. My girlfriend whispers she needs the loo and stands up. At which point the gentleman disturbing us all says “OOH AND HELLO LADY!”

‘I snap. We’ve missed the first half hour almost in its entirety to the psychodrama of Mr Robot and now he’s harassing my girlfriend? Enough. I tell her to sit down, wait, and I leave my seat. I find a member of staff outside, explain the situation. He enters with a torch, and the man is ejected. Like a handwringing liberal, I say to him as he passes me: “Look I’m sorry but you were ruining it for the rest of us.” The man stares at me and pushes past, no reply, and I feel vindicated. No remorse, and how rude. I tut, loudly.’

‘I return to my seat to muted cheers from the disgruntled filmgoers around me. I feel manly at having taken action, and protected my partner.

‘Afterwards, we go for pizza and I say, over my thin crust American Hot: “I can’t believe he ignored me when I apologised. Why should I apologise anyway? Some people.” My girlfriend says: “I think he was profoundly deaf. If you’ve been deaf from birth, you don’t use language in the same way. I had a customer where I worked who gave me Christmas cards with THE GIRL written on the envelope.”

‘I say: “Or he was simple.”

‘She says: “But he’s obviously seen the firstBlade Runnerand understood it.” “Why?” I say. “He knew who was a robot and who wasn’t straight off, and you wouldn’t immediately know that from what was on screen without that context.”

‘And, people of The Wicker, I was annoyed at her. I said: “What did you want me to do, leave him there to carry on shouting “RAIN!” and “SCARY GUN”?” She said, “No, I’m not getting at you, I’m only thinking about what his perspective on it was.” I said: “You’d be having a go at me now if I’d done nothing!”

‘She looked baffled. “I didn’t expect you to do anything.”

‘I spent the next half hour sulking, thinking: where’s the gratitude? Doesn’t she appreciate me? Why doesn’t she care aboutwhatI did for her?

‘It took me losing this woman I loved, who I still love …’ pause for fakey steadying of himself ‘… a while later, going back over my mistakes, for it to click. I put that pressure on myself because I thought it was a test, where I had to be who she wanted. But I had what she wanted, completely wrong. She didn’t want The Guy Who Got The Other Guy Thrown Out. She wanted The Guy Who Took The Time To Understand The Other Guy. He was the deaf guy, but I was the one who didn’t listen.

‘So my worst date is me. I was the worst date. Thank you.’

Robin slots the microphone back on the stand.

As I get up to leave, amid the ‘You Are A Genius’ level hullabaloo, he’s thronged by women.

Game, set, match. This isn’t love, it’s not even adjacent to love. It’s a grotesque imitation of adoration to give Robin an excuse to hound me. He just wants to dominate me and win, and right now, it feels like he has.

34

Robin is ejected, my indignant friends and family are safely gifted drink in the snug, Share Your Shame’s Gareth quibbles over the politics of Robin’s involvement in the show with an aggrieved Devlin. Wherever I go, I cause trouble.

Lucas steers me into the kitchen, and amid the wiped-down stainless steel surfaces and static of dormant machinery says: ‘Georgina, I am so so sorry. This is entirely on us. I forgot to give Dev a visual and he snuck past when I was occupied. There’s no excuse not to have kept a close eye out for him.’

‘It’s OK.’

‘I can’t apologise enough. Two attacks by that guy in your place of work is two too many, and this one should’ve been entirely preventable.’

I’d have to be a much better person than I am not to get a frisson from Lucas grovelling.

‘Robin has more brass neck than C-3P0, hardly your fault. That wasn’t a date I remember having, by the way.’

‘Really? I just assumed it was with you.’

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