"WHATwould you do if Jose was unfaithful to you," Maggie asked Patsy as she munched on a packet of Tayto.
She had wanted to order a homemade burger, topped with gruyere cheese and caramelised onions with a side of hand-cooked chips, but she was skint. Crisps it had to be. "Like that's ever going to happen," Patsy sneered.
"Yeah, but if it did, what would you do?"
I can't tell you Patsy's reply because her language is unprintable and also the methods she would use to solve this crisis could result in Jose having to engage the services of a solicitor to take out a restraining order against her.
"The reason why it will never happen is because we have the most wonderful love life and he is never going to find it as good with someone else," she continued without a trace of humility.
Not everyone is in the same boat, but some are willing to pay to ensure that they are.
In America (where else?) if you are having problems in the rumpy pumpy department, you can engage the services of coach Eric Amaranth, who will make notes as he watches you and your partner lock horns, so to speak.
As he observes your wanton abandonment, he will tell you what you are doing wrong and even lend a hand with the aid of certain toys that you won't find in Smyths.
"That sounds a bit creepy," said Josie.
Not only does it sound creepy, Eric also looks creepy. With a face only a mother could love -- a cross between Norman Bates and melted cheese -- Eric hasn't a care in the world as he charges $240 (€190) per hour to teach people how to be better lovers. He describes his method as being like "a chef who teaches other people how to make gourmet food".
However, Dr Petra Boynton, psychologist and senior lecturer at University College London, cautions that this type of coaching is unregulated and there are no formal qualifications required.
Eric doesn't need a degree because he learned his trade from his ex-girlfriend, sex coach Betty Dodson.
The interesting thing about Betty and Eric's relationship was the 46-year age difference. Eric was 34 and Betty 80 when they split last year. Not only does Betty advocate some of the values of Fifty Shades of Grey, she actually is 50 shades of grey.
"What exactly is the moral of your story?" demanded Patsy, pursing her lips with annoyance.
"No matter how good you think you are, you can always do better," I replied.
She glared at me and then said: "Did you grow that moustache for Movember?" Ouch!