My man's willy's insured for £1m
Tristan at work
Saturday 22nd September 2007
There was nothing more boring than a bride-to-be. Ever since my mate, Steph, 26, had got engaged at Christmas 2000 to her boyfriend, John, all she'd talked about were dresses and table plans. As usual, she'd got her head buried in a wedding magazine when I heard her gasp.
'Look,' she said.
Steph was staring at an advert for a show called Adonis Cabaret for hire for hen parties.
'Anyone look familiar?' she said, pointing to one of the strippers.
He was dressed in a white thong with a red cross on the crotch. I stared again. There was something about that spiky brown hair, the bright blue eyes and the toned chest...
'It's my Tristan,' I gasped.
Tristan Mills, 29, was my boyfriend. We'd met in a Brighton nightclub in the summer of 2002 and had been going out for four months. I thought he worked in marketing. He wore business suits and went to the office every morning. Now here he was in a g-string exposing himself to screaming hens.
'Right,' I told Steph. 'We're going to catch Tristan in the act.'
I didn't say a word to Tristan and two days later, in October 2002, Steph and I arrived at The Aquarium nightclub in Old Street, London. It turned out to be a comedy show and after two hours I hadn't seen hide nor naked hair of Tristan.Maybe it was all a misunderstanding.
But then the compere announced the final act.
'Please welcome Tristan Tristar…'
The dirty, lying so-and-so. I felt sick Tristan strutted onto the stage wearing a Pope's outfit. But as he started to get his kit off, it was me praying.
'Off, off, off,' the women chanted.
'No, no, no,' I screamed.
Tristan whipped off his gold g-string exposing his oiled-up tackle to the world. I'd know that penis anywhere.
I won't reveal how big it is but put it this way. I usually had a grin like a Cheshire cat on my face. Except for now!
After Tristan had covered himself up audience could have their photo taken with him. I queued up and when my turn came Tristan's mouth gaped open.
'S-sarah,' he gasped.
'Remember this face,' I hissed. 'Because this is the last time you'll see it.'
Then I stormed off.
Over the next few days Tristan bombarded me with calls. For five months I refused to answer. Then, in March 2003, I was having a drink at Richard's Bar in Hove when I saw a familiar face. Tristan.
'Please let me explain,' he begged.
Three days later me met at an Italian restaurant called Orfinos in Hove.
'I wasn't lying,' he pleaded. 'I look after the marketing side of the business from Monday to Friday and strip at the weekends.'
Tristan reassured me that he only had eyes for me.
'It's you I love,' he said.
So we started dating but I hadn't banked on what life with a stripper was like. That Friday night I dressed up in my sexiest undies.
'We've got a lot of making up to do,' I told him.
'Please don't,' he begged. 'I can't have sex the night before a show. My tackle's got to be in mint condition.'
I could tell by the look on his face he wasn't joking.
Over the next year I fell in love with Tristan but it took a while to get used to the way he hogged the bathroom.
'What were you doing in there?' I asked when he came out an hour later one Saturday morning.
'Grooming for tonight's performance,' he said.
Soon after I was sitting in the car with Tristan listening him drone on about some insurance policy.
'Can you imagine if I got a false nail stuck in my willy,' he muttered.
'What?' I asked.
'The insurance policy,' he said. 'For my willy.'
'Your willy is insured?' I gasped. 'How much for?'
'A million pounds,' came his proud reply.
I'd heard of holiday insurance but not penis insurance.
'Imagine if something happened to it,' Tristan gabbled.
Apparently if he injured his willy during a show and then suffered 'erectile dysfunction' because of it then First Act Insurance would pay him £1 million for loss of earnings.
'I'm never going skiing either,' he said. 'It's too high risk.'
Three years on, we've moved in together and I've got used to his willy obsession. I'm encouraging him to try and hang up his g-string. We want to start a family you see so I've even started to see the sense in that insurance. I want that willy in mint condition too.
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