SO another politician has been exposed for bonking at the British taxpayers’ expense.

John Prescott, Deputy Prime Minister in Tony Blair’s increasingly fallible government, has been outed by his mistress, Tracy Temple, who declared to The Mail On Sunday that “He can be a randy old sod at times.” Well, Mr Prescott will at least be relieved that she didn’t call him a “dud bang” or some such pejorative comment. But then Miss Temple is not your coy and retiring paramour. She is, as they say, full on. In a paid interview with The Mail On Sunday, she declared that she and the Deputy Prime Minister indulged in sexual acts in Mr Prescott’s Whitehall office, at Mr Prescott’s flat after attending an Iraq War Memorial Service at St. Paul’s Cathedral and in a Southampton hotel while Mrs Prescott was waiting downstairs to have dinner with him. Much of this heavily rostered rogering was undertaken at the British taxpayers’ expense given that it was in office time and Miss Temple was ‘… ferried around by Mr Prescott’s government driver after many of their sex romps.”

I thought a nice touch in The Mail On Sunday report was that “… Mr Prescott is now struggling to save his political career, with the rabid Tories intent on seeing him ousted from office.” Aren’t the Tories lovely? They invented sex in high political places and the line is long and distinguished including Profumo and Clark in more recent times. The numerous lesser known ones include the types who hang around public dunnies wearing Penelope’s Dior nightie.

Someone should remind these posturers that it has been ever thus. Like it or not, every day of every week, everywhere, elicit and extramarital sex is taking place — in private sector office buildings, government offices, supermarket store rooms, sand dunes, hotel rooms, parks, cars, tennis club rooms and even mdash; would you believe it? — in flats, tents, caravans and private homes. And the Tories want to make an example of Prescott. Prescott has already made a fool of himself privately, then his friend Tracey made a fool of him publicly and now the Tories want him sacked. This from a party that — given its record and a reasonable guess — would have roughly the same percentage of philanderers and sexual misfits than the governing Labor Party, not to mention most other sectors of society.

Surely it is not so much that people, at all levels of society, engage in extra-marital sex — and there is no law against it — but that so many of them are so thoroughly inept about it. They get caught and are seen to be incompetent, stupid or unlucky by their friends and associates and amoral and evil by the pious ones including the big buck God-botherers such as Hillsong and the like. If you require confirmation of this latter assertion please contact your local member and ask if he will be appearing with Mr Costello et al when they line up with some singing christian group just before the next election.

Posing as a tough leader

So, Blair may well sack Prescott but that will be because he has become a public embarrassment to the party and the government, not because he had extra-marital sex. In the most unlikely event that he should be sacked that will only be because Blair sees advantage in posing as a tough leader. It is more likely that Mr Prescott will resign at a major press conference, holding hands with his wife and declaring that he is stepping down for the good of the party and because it is time to move on. And he hasn’t pruned the roses for ages. Ring a bell? In any event, it will be yesterday’s news within a few weeks, whatever Blair does about it.

I suspect that one of the factors behind promiscuity in politics is because, for many, it is a lonely business. I was fortunate in my few years in politics in that I lived at home but many of my colleagues lived in the west, north-west, north and east of the state and clearly were required to stay in commercial accommodation or owned premises during sitting weeks, the more so given that parliament often sat late into the night. This problem is compounded greatly in the other states and at federal level because many of the politicians in those jurisdictions live in very large electorates in very extensive states.

I have been aware of some political frolics over the years but I don’t believe the incidence of such behaviour is likely to be significantly different from that which occurs in other areas such as business, the professions and the bureaucracies. The British media, of course — especially those newspapers noted for displaying ample bosoms on page three — do like to pursue any salacious frolics by politicians because they are fair game and doing whatever they are doing at the taxpayers’ expense. However, in Australia the media has been generally quite circumspect in this area and only very rarely does a private political frolic find its way into the press. That is as it should be, not because politicians are involved but because it is a private matter. It would only become a topic for media interest if there was some significant non-sexual twist to the matter — like the Hon. Fred Nurque missed a quorum call because his pants fell down just as he was mounting the steps to enter the chamber. For want of a better way of putting it! Another reason for both sides keeping “mum” is that both usually know a bit about the other in this area.

The bureaucracies are an entirely different kettle of fun. However, the average age in the public services would be much lower than in politics and it is those randy types in their twenties and thirties who give the bureaucrats a handsome lead in the random bonking stakes. If you doubt this assertion I urge that you spend just a little time walking slowly past that federal government building in Collins street or that state government tribute to depression architecture on the corner of Davey and Murray Streets. Your will find that both these buildings quiver with unbridled lust. It is palpable. You can feel it in the air. I have avoided them both after disturbing experiences.

At the same time she started licking my throat …

It was when I had cause to visit the Collins Street building on business many years ago that I was assailed by a lady seeking my help with her urn. The words tumbled out at such a speed that I thought “urn” was “Ern” but no, it was not a man but a hot water urn and she was a tea lady seeking help. She was a very short stout lady who wouldn’t see fifty again. She had straight black hair in a pudding basin cut and a few stray whiskers on her upper lip. Ever gallant, I was quick to step forward in Galahad mode. She immediately hustled me in to an adjacent room — complete with cups, sinks, hot water cylinder, biscuits and other morning and afternoon tea items — closed the door and began massaging me in sensitive places. At the same time she started licking my throat — or my tie to be exact — because I was out of orthodox kissing range. The pressure on my throat precluded a roar for help, so I back-kicked the closed door with all the force I could muster, shattering the flimsy structure with a couple of kicks. That brought two men — one young, tall and pimply and the other suited, serious and clearly senior. They looked a bit like auditors — a tad constipated — but they were quick to offer me a cup of tea and any assistance I required but all I wanted was my freedom. I have never been back to that awful building.

Random bonking takes place in all sorts of buildings, especially those where there is lot of night work. Newspapers and hospitals are cases in point. A cousin of mine, a journalist, got into terrible trouble when her husband saw her walk towards the shower with the front page of The Mercury reverse-printed on her backside. It just goes to show doesn’t it? You should always watch your rear.