Dear Keir: How to be concise and a little bit naughty

There once was a PM called Starmer

Who wished to make politics calmer,

But, contra Sir Keir,

The nation would veer

From drama to drama to drama.

Good, isn’t it? If a little sad. Of course, I’m still prime minister, so there’s plenty on my plate. For example, travelling to Scotland to caddy for Donald Trump. I had to miss the Lionesses at No 10, but hey ho. The special relationship comes before football. As well as morality, dignity and public opinion.

OK, time for your emails.

Dear Keir, I can’t stand one of my colleagues. He’s rude, loud and condescending. How do I stop this affecting my work? (I’m a bomb disposal expert.)

Iona, Largs

Dear Iona, I know your situation all too well. For three long years I was a member of Jeremy Corbyn’s shadow cabinet. In many ways, Jeremy and I are polar opposites. He’s held the same beliefs since the mid 60s; it’s been said, uncharitably, that I change my views more often than my underwear. He gets his suits from Oxfam; mine were gifted by Lord Alli. He didn’t want to use our nuclear deterrent; I would be honoured to press the button.

It’s safe to say that Jeremy wasn’t my cup of tea (he’s more kombucha than builder’s). Nonetheless, I had to work alongside him as shadow Brexit secretary. I took the job out of loyalty to the Labour party. And also a tiny bit because I wanted to be leader. Of course, I thought Jez was an antisemitic maniac and a threat to national security. But I told people he should be prime minister, because I knew he couldn’t win. Stop me if I’m making too much sense.

My advice is to find something you and your coworker have in common. A point of connection for me and Jeremy was that we both support Arsenal. As fellow Gooners, we were able to discuss Xhaka and Emery for hours. I greatly enjoyed those Goon sessions. It almost makes me regret undermining his leadership and purging him. But I had to, so I could enter No 10 and deliver change.

Dear Keir, I recently – and reluctantly – waded back into the dating pool. After 30 years of marriage, I’m all at sea. How does one compose a “bio” for an internet dating profile?

Clive, Boscastle

Hi Clive, sorry about your failed marriage/bereavement. I’ve never had cause to write a dating profile, but if I did, it would read something like this…

Sir Keir, 62

Lonely knight seeks his lady. Looking for a partner in crime (not literally – as a former director of public prosecutions, I deplore criminality of any kind). Thirty-seven years ago, I was called to the bar. Now I’m calling you to the bar, to have a drink with me.

As happy sharing a tepid mug of cocoa as a low-alcohol beer. I enjoy food, particularly delicious food, and have been known to appreciate music and films. I’m into various niche pursuits, for instance family and football (my favourite part is when they score a goal).

I like to take things slow, whether it’s building a relationship or recognising the state of Palestine. If you’re passionate about pragmatism and mad for moderation, I could be the man of your realistic dreams. QC? More like QT! (I’m actually a KC since Elizabeth died, but you get the point).

No socialists – if you’re on the left, I’m swiping left. I’ll kiss a Tory, though.

Turn ons:

• Pledges, missions, milestones, etc

• Important people using my title

• Placid acceptance of the status quo

Turn offs:

• Ideology

• Scruffiness

• Trade union membership

NB, I don’t do one-night stands. This PM is going to be there in the AM.

There you go: sincere, concise and a little bit naughty. Why not end with a fun fact about yourself, something the reader would never guess? In my case, it could be that my dad was a toolmaker.

PS, the above is solely for educational purposes: I’m happily married to the Lady Victoria. Vic, I respect you as a parental colleague and a stakeholder in our family. I would never betray you by getting on the apps.

Until next week, this is Keir Starmer signing off. Please send any questions to sensiblecentrist69@gmail.com.