Some Like It Hot

Why on earth did I tell The Boss we were going out for the day? Sam thinks I am a madwoman, as I insist that we keep the curtains in the front room closed all day, and that Max moves the car from its usual parking spot - just in case Andrew decides to cruise by "on the off chance." (It has been known.)

Both Max and Sam are very hungover, so there is a lot of groaning and excessive ibuprofen usage before they are even worth conversing with. Max also thinks he may have pulled his back by sleeping on the couch all night. I am somewhat less than sympathetic - because I am still sulking about his failure to follow through on last night's brief lust-filled moment.

Sam leaves mid-afternoon and I consider doing the family phone calls, but decide I am too grumpy to manage to avoid an argument with one or other of the parents. Anyway, we have Connie's boyfriend coming for dinner. We've been putting this off, as he's not the easiest person to talk to - but Connie's getting upset about it now. She keeps pointing out that Josh has had Holly here for a meal on numerous occasions, whereas we haven't invited Russ at all - so we have no option but to comply.

The evening proves to be much more fun than we'd expected, though not for Connie. Max has cooked a Thai meal, and Russ has never tried Thai food.

"It's chilli-hot," says Max.

The mention of chillies turns Russ from a monosyllabic introvert into a gushing fool. For almost two hours, he tells story after story - all of them about hazardous encounters he has had with chillies. These have all apparently been entirely self-inflicted, and carried out as a test of manhood. Each story is identical to the last, except for the number of chillies consumed, which increases with every version. So does the number of pints of water that had to be drunk as a result. Max and I can't even look at each other, and Connie is squirming. She already thinks we can't stand Russ.

I dread to think how long the whole thing would have gone on, had Josh not completely lost it. He interrupts Russ firmly, saying,

"I once ate a chilli the size of my head."

Russ looks non-plussed, and then Josh continues,

"And I had to drink 37 litres of water before I could talk, or even swallow. Was wild, man."

Russ nods, lost in admiration.

Connie's had enough.

"It's getting late, Russ. I think you'd better be going now as we've all got to work in the morning."

She glares at us as she shows Russ out. When she comes back, Josh says,

"Wow, Con - where've you been hiding him? I LOVE Russ. Love him. Almost as much as he loves his chillies."

"Fuck you," says Connie, and flounces off to bed.

Not for the first time this weekend, Max and I congratulate ourselves on our extraordinary good fortune in having married each other. A dislike for sub-titles is a small price to pay for avoiding a chilli fetish.