A play with the word play in the title, twice (a comedy)

I took a lady to see A play with the word play in the title, twice (a comedy) at one of the theatres around Shaftesbury Avenue earlier this week, my only prior intelligence of the evening being the play’s title, the lady’s attractive properties, and the positive reviews of both of the evening’s components provided to me by a fellow faux-connoisseur – although he qualified his opinion of my companion by saying that it was not based on an intimate acquaintance, and then further qualified this qualification with a laugh and an assurance that although they had slept together they had never discussed sixteenth century French poetry. It was midway through the second act of A play with the word play in the title, twice (a comedy), after a bit with a dog, a misunderstanding, an absurdity, a couple of one-liners and a sequence of unlikely combinations - for the play did indeed live up to its name - that I realised he may not have been joking. The give-away, so to speak, was the sideways contortion that culminated in my ear being at once probed and cleaned by the errant tongue of my libidinous companion. It is this sexual assault in a public place, my educated reader, this deflowering backed by riotous laughter – and only curtailed by a casual allusion to a secretive condition that I was at the time suffering from - that forces me to advise you against seeing A play with the word play in the title, twice (a comedy) with a whore.

Rex