It takes two to tandem

There are few things in life I dislike more than riding a bike: the wind in my superbly-coiffed hair, flies in my face, and the fact it undeniably gives the impression I want to help combat climate change (which I, of course, would, were it actually happening*).

Bearing this rational thinking in mind, you can imagine my dismay when a substantial friend of mine informed me, over my unsubsidised vegetarian plat du jour (round of applause for the EU contract negotiators), not only that he loves a good old ride on any bike, but that he finds it almost impossible to do it without someone else: à deux, in tandem, if you'll pardon the pun.

Anyway, once the cleaners had scooped away my shock-induced sick I, with still-queasy heart and quivering hand, asked him the question I feel sure now to be on all your lips: in the name of all that is ingestible, why?

"I just love learning languages," he purred.

I shot him a quizzical look.

"Tandem. It's a pun. Two people help each other learn a language by going to a bar and speaking their native tongues to each other. Just like two people sit on one bike and propel it forwards."

As a native English speaker, I was somewhat annoyed to have the concept of a pun explained to me by a German. This only hastened the return of my nausea.

He continued: "It's different people working together, powering progress. Just like the EU."

I put my head between my legs as swiftly as possible and, on resurfacing, pretended as though I hadn't just got sick, again.

"Only kidding," he said, without irony.

I forced the two corners of my mouth to the region of my cheeks, in what I like to think was a successful attempt at smiling.

It was at this moment - the moment in which my glazed-over eyes and stale smile were desperately trying to convey the most pitiful amusement - that I noticed my dear colleague's eyes were not fixed on me – and were far from glazed over.

A raging fire flamed in his usually tender eyes; his mouth had dropped slightly open (to accommodate his slathering tongue, one presumes). The object of his desire was plain to see – literally – as the lady across the table had obviously forgotten one essential element of her outfit that morning: decency.

It was at this moment I was struck, frappé, by the real reason for my friend's interest in riding multiple linguas à deux: dates. And I think we all know I'm not talking shrivelled prunes here (not a euphemism, thank you).

This guy was desperate for a date, and would say anything (in any official EU language) to get it.

So, if a charming young chappy approaches you and says "Ich möchte deine Sprache lernen", my advice is to say this: JA, which, as we all know, means "non". At least, that's what my German tandem whispered in my ear last night.

Will McAdam,

DG EAC

*Cf. The Daily Mail