Image copyright Sarolta Ban
Fancy a drink?
All I did was ask her if she fancied coming out for a drink with me. The way she looked at me, eyes blazing, you’d have thought I’d asked her to sleep with me. I’m not saying the thought hadn’t crossed my mind – sleeping with her, I mean. She was a bit of all right, if you know what I mean, legs up to here and a beautiful figure, everything in the right place and just the right size – you catch my drift? Yeah, quite a looker but classy with it, you know, not your usual bit of crumpet. Real peachy she was but posh – cut-glass accent, lots of bling, nice clothes, skyscraper heels, the lot. Yeah, she was the real thing.
I’m not so bad myself. I mean, you wouldn’t throw me out of bed - that’s what my bird says and she should know. Been round the block a few times she has, but nice with it.
Anyway, this posh bint, she thought she was too good for the likes of me. ‘I bet she’s got some rich old buffer twisted round her little finger,’ I thought. I know the type, you see, bit like an upmarket car. Get a good chassis, tart it up and wait for an old bloke with more money than sense to come along.
I don’t take offence, me. There’s plenty more like her and more generous with it. I was curious, though. Women don’t usually knock me back quite as quickly as she did so I thought her bloke must be something really special. You could tell she was waiting for someone – she kept looking at her watch and turning this way and that to see if he was coming. She looked excited, sort of like she was in love. I thought that was a bit unlikely – women like her don’t have hearts, just safety vaults - so I hung around. She didn’t see me. Women like that, once they’ve rejected someone, they don’t see them any more.
Suddenly her face lit up in a smile - fantastic teeth, all white and even, and she looked happy, radiant even. I looked to see what her bloke was like – maybe I could pick up some pointers (modesty forbids I should say I don’t need any help in that field.)
Well! That’s all I can say. Hurrying towards her was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Sisters? Best friends? I don’t think so. I sighed. ‘What a waste,’ I thought. ‘Still, whatever butters your bread. No wonder she looked down her nose at me. I’m as much use to her as a bird cage is to a butterfly.’
I went home to my girl-friend. She’ll never turn me down.
To read more Mags click here. Thanks to Tess for the prompt.