Dear Keir: Politics isn’t lonely when you’ve got mates like Wes and Ange

Hullo. Or should I say bonjour? This week I’ve been hosting French president Emmanuel Macron. We had beaucoup de vin (lots of wine) and shared some haute cuisine (nice food). But enough about me. Let’s turn to your questions (questions).

Dear Keir, over the past decade, my school friends and I have drifted apart. How do I make new friends as an adult?

Ernest, Sutton Coldfield

Dear Ernest, the most efficient cure for loneliness is to make friends at work. Harry S Truman is meant to have quipped: “You want a friend in Washington? Get a dog.” That’s not the case in Westminster. I have some good pals on the Parliamentary Estate. We call ourselves “The Legend Squad” and spend much of our free time getting mullered.

There’s Pat “Madlad” McFadden. This bloke may look and sound like a Clydeside undertaker, but he’s actually a bloody good laugh. When Pat’s on the lagers, you know the night’s going to get messy. If you’ve seen the film Trainspotting, it’s basically that.

There’s Ange “The Caner” Rayner. People say Ange and I don’t get along, but nothing could be further from the truth. She cracks me up with her banter: “Keir, you’re the worst prime minister Labour’s ever had.” “You’re a grey potato who’s destroying the party.” “You look like a constipated headmaster.” It can be highly amusing to state the opposite of what is the case.

Then there’s Wes Streeting, a great bloke who always has my back. He’s certainly not someone who would shove you into a wood chipper if it improved his chances of career advancement 0.1%. When people call him a grinning android fuelled by pure ambition, or an uncanny, Blairite pod person, I couldn’t disagree more.

If making friends at work isn’t an option, try social hobbies. For instance, I play five-a-side every Sunday, schedule permitting. I can get very competitive – and indeed violent. I’ve been known to elbow, tackle with studs up, gouge the occasional eye. But at the end of the day, we all have pints and talk about our feelings. Except for the blokes I hospitalise.

Dear Keir, I recently landed a new job (zookeeper) and made an egregious error on my first day (long story short, the leopards got out). How do I recover from this?

Struan, Peebles

Hi Struan, sorry about the leopards. We’ve all been there. Look, I make my fair share of mistakes, often in the glare of the public eye. There’s no need to go down the list, but I’ll do so anyway: Sue Gray, Freebiegate, PIP, that week I went Enoch mode. Some would suggest my premiership is little more than a string of goofs (I’m picturing a lefty comedian with a satirical column).

The thing about me, though, is that I learn. For instance, I might see a pot of boiling water and stick my hand straight in it. “Righto,” I’ll think, “that’s rather hot. Better take my hand out and pop to A&E.” Or I might jam a fork into an electrical socket, causing my hair to stand up and flinging me across the room. “Okay,” I’ll tell myself, “not an ideal outcome. Time for a rethink.”

Don’t despair if you walk face-first into a brick wall, one that was clearly visible and several people warned you about. The important thing is to move on with head held high, ready for the next wall.

Dear Keir, someone close to me is an emotional vampire. Whenever we meet up, all she does is complain. How can I stop her negativity from bringing me down?

Josie, Bridport

Hi Josie, we all have that mate who foists their problems on you. You’ll be doing something important, like PMQs the day after a mortifying climbdown, and she’ll just sit there, blubbing. You can’t give in to this sort of thing, say, by comforting her or acknowledging her distress. You have to prioritise your own needs, like fending off barbs from a formidable opponent (Kemi Badenoch).

People will always try to emotionally manipulate you. “Stop freezing my nan.” “Oppose the ongoing genocide.” “Please, I need that money for a wheelchair.” You should respond by establishing boundaries. Look them dead in the eye and say: “I can’t do emotional labour. I’m at capacity right now.” After all, you’re not responsible for these things. It’s the economy, the previous government, the way of the world. Would they rather Farage were in charge?

Right, time for this hard bastard to skedaddle. I’ve decided to retire my beloved sign-off (the one that goes “stay X, stay Y, stay Keir”). Don’t worry, I’ll still mention that my dad was a toolmaker in every column. Until next week, Keir-io!

As told to Lucien Young