THE LAST BANANA

So it seems tact is in its usual short supply. This takes place in the kitchen, with me pouring milk over my muesli, Marie trying to solve world poverty and Bryan entering, looking for the fruit basket...

Bryan: "Where are all the bananas?"
Marie: "Um..."
Bryan: "Oh, I see."

Marie is holding the last banana behind her back.

Marie: "Of course, you do that funny martial art, don't you? You could probably twist this banana right out of my hand."
Bryan: "Yep. I know how to do that."
Marie: "It would be like in that Monty Python sketch, you know the one with the banana?"

She looks at me.

Me: "I don't know it. I don't have a television."

Bryan: "I think... wasn't it The Goodies?"

Marie looks blank.

Bryan looks at me.

I shrug my shoulders.

Me: "I genuinely don't remember The Goodies."
Bryan: "Really?"
Me: "Mhm."
Bryan: "You must be similar in age to me, surely you remember The Goodies?

My brain does two depressing things at once. First, it starts to calculate how old Bryan is and second it tries to predict the inevitable course of this worsening conversation. Bryan has whitish hair and the look of someone who has lived long enough to earn it. The maths makes my head spin and my heart pound.

Me: "I'm...er.. I'm younger than I look." (nervously)
Bryan: "How old are you?"
Me: "I'm thirty eight."

Bryan responded with a loud expletive.

I might try and avoid the kitchen altogether from now on.