Suzanne Portnoy

Well, I think I finally have figured out how to crack the U.S.  - appeal to the lowest common denominator.  Since my book is about sex, I’d be a complete hypocrite not to capitalise on the content.  In the U.K. I’ve been interviewed for Esquire, the Sunday Times and Observer - fairly highbrow stuff.  But, I’ve decided the only way my book is going to sell in in the U.S. is if I come across as a bright and funny MILF.  So yesterday, I picked up the phone and dialled into the Opie & Anthony Show and got myself 10 minutes of air time talking about some of my more extreme sexual experiences.  It was fun and God, it was harder than I thought it would be.  I was more nervous than I was the first time I popped into Rio’s for a lunchtime quickie and I was really nervous then.

It wasn’t just the thought of possibly being live on air across America (although that’s a pretty scary thought), it was more that I knew if I wasn’t on my toes, I’d have the phone hung up on me in seconds.  I imagine it’s a bit like doing stand-up and you get to a part in your show when you just know your audience just isn’t going to laugh anymore.  I thought, ‘This is it.  I’ve got one shot with these guys.  This is my moment,’ and I think I pulled it off.  So I talked about grope rooms and group sex and swallowing and just about anything else I could think of that would keep me on the show.  And they didn’t hang up on me.  One guy said, ‘I’m going to have a sandwich now.  I was going to put on a record but f*** it, let’s just let Suzanne keep on talking.’  What’s even better, they plugged the book, my website, the lot.  So, here’s a big London shout out to Opie and Anthony - you’re the best!

Meanwhile, back in the real world, my Sengalese hottie sends me a text telling me that he’s not eating from sunrise to sunset.

‘Why?’ I text back because I’m incredibly dumb sometimes.

‘I’m a Muslim,’ he texts back.

‘Oh, I’m a non-practising Jew,’ I reply.  ‘Maybe together we could sort out world peace.’

‘Sounds great,’ he says.

I duly go to google and work out that it’s Ramadam.  Having not ever been out with a Muslim guy, I decide it’s probably worth checking out the do’s and don’ts.  I figure that being divorced, I’m completely impure and consequently, he can do pretty much what he likes with me.  So, I’m a pretty safe bet for a young, horny Muslim guy.  It turns out though that until the end of October he’s not allowed to have lascivious thoughts.  That sounds problematic.  So I ring him up.

‘Is it true that until the end of October you’re not allowed to have naughty thoughts,’ I say.

‘Naughty thoughts?’ he says in his charming French accent.  I tell you sometimes I have a hard time making things sound even simplier than they are.

‘You know,’ I say.  ‘Thinking about sex.  That sort of stuff.’

‘Oh, it’s OK,’ he says.  ‘Just not during the day.’

‘So daytime naughty thoughts are out but you can misbehave in the evening?’ I say.

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘Oh, that’s cool then,’ I say whilst thinking I really, really like morning sex but I suppose I can forego that for a few weeks.  It’s only until the month of October.

‘Although, sometimes,’ he says, ‘I have naughty thoughts after breakfast.’