Porn 'Tache

"Time and time again, translation seems to sabotage the words. You know, what is said is not what is heard."

So I sat down about an hour ago to write a short piece of prose that fit the strange criteria I was given by my sister yesterday. This is the unedited result. It contains one or two references that you'll find deeply obscure if you're an American.

“Jesus,” I muttered. “Look at that.”

“What?”

“That.”

James finally focussed on the object of my horror. “Jesus,” he said. “That’s a porn moustache if ever I saw one.”

I began to nod, then paused. “Define ’porn moustache’,” I said.

James shrugged. “Bushy,” he replied. “Full. Possibly patchy. Obviously grown purely to tickle the clitori of orange women with enormous plastic tits.”

“Clitori?”

“Like cacti. Less spiky. Harder to find.”

It was ten-to-twelve. We were sitting on the bench outside The Black Dragon, watching the morning shoppers. As the man on whose upper lip this monstrosity lay wandered past unawares, I found my eyes drawn to its uneven bristles. I calculated and compared. Finally, I spoke.

“That moustache,” I said, “had more in common with Bob Carolgees than John Holmes.”

“How can you say that?”

“It was too thick.”

“For porn?”

“Yup. It was a Carolgees, no doubt about it. Maybe a Burt Reynolds, possibly a Tom Selleck. Definitely not a porn ‘tache.”

“The Selleck moustache was not a static entity, Colin. It’s shape changed many times throughout the nineteen eighties.”

“But it’s most famous configuration was in Magnum; straight across the upper lip, no shaping or curling to speak of, quite full, and no sign of patchiness.”

“And he wouldn’t have looked out of place in Cock Craving Nuns.”

“No way. That was a sophisticated moustache, James. Dapper, even. And his hair was way too stylish. Not that I've seen Cock Craving Nuns.”

“You’re talking about Tom Selleck, Col. Style? Class? It’s a porn ‘tache. Besides, Magnum was porn. How many fast cars and big guns do you need?”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t porn.”

“And the Burt moustache was far bigger than the Selleck. I wouldn’t have been able to walk up to the Burt of the Smokey And The Bandit years for fear that it might leap off his face and attack me. That’s a ‘tache too big for porn. Christ, can you imagine trying to rub one out with that thing jumping and twitching in front of you? Might as well have a tommy over American Werewolf In London.”

“So a porn ‘tache is a ‘tache that can safely be onscreen when one is masturbating?”

“You know, that isn’t a bad definition. The John Holmes is tacky but inoffensive, much like the Selleck.”

“What about the Charles Bronson?”

“I never liked that one. There was always something evil about it, especially when it started greying.”

“Bruce Grobbelaar?”

“Porn.”

“Why?”

“It was always so neatly trimmed.”

“Gay porn then.”

“Shit.”

“What?”

“There’s an exception to the rule.”

“There is?”

“Ian Beale out of Eastenders. It looked like he’d taken a bite out of a ferret.”

“Offensive then.”

“Without question, Colin, without question. But it was a porn ‘tache. I mean, substitute the scrawny little body of Adam whatsisface for a six pack and a ten inch cock and you’re there, aren’t you?”

I nodded, staring wistfully into the middle distance. “It’s an art, isn’t it? I mean, you can’t fake a proper porn star moustache. You can’t make it happen.”

“Unless you’re a porn star.”

“Or Tom Selleck.”

“Woodyatt. That was his name. Adam Woodyatt.”

“Best moustache ever.”

“Second best.”

“What?”

“Terry Thomas had the best moustache ever. If there was a ‘tache top trumps, he‘d be Galactus.”

“Could Terry Thomas have done porn?”

“With that moustache, Terry Thomas was like Sampson. He could have done anything.”

“Even come up with a strict definition of the porn ‘tache?”

“Even that.”

I smiled. “That’s ten minutes,” I said.

“Thank Christ. It’s your round.”