Yep, the kind of girl you don't meet every day too. About 5'2", huge brown eyes, almost feral in her intensity and general strangeness, yet friendly, charimatic and confident enough for not seem 'weird'. She'd often get drunk and angry aout something and have these passive agressive mini-strops, while all the time those massive brown eyes just made you forget she was being silly and drunk. Didn't suffer fools gladly, liked the Jesus And Mary Chain. Done deal.
Needless to say, everybody wanted her. For some reason; maybe perversion, maybe slight mental illness, maybe the Mary Chain or maybe the fact I was a proper hipster sex god back in my late twenties, she nervously necks enough gin to bolster her courage, all the time looking at me. Then asks where I'm sleeping, and whether I'd be intersted in sleeping at hers.
Of course, dickhead here was also a massive cokehead at the time. So in true dick / cokehead fashion I chop 'em out and begin ranting, mostly about myself and other bollocks.
I'd also had my heart broken not long before that, and it would be a few years before I'd develop complete contempt and bitterness toward all that love shit. So I just wanted to sit there on the sofa, talk and cuddle and all that horible crap that people do who haven't acquired the misanthropy necessary to negotiate life with unbridled cynicism, especially with regard to all matters sexual.
She just wanted a fuck - the nastiest she could find, probably; though at the tender age of 26 I hadn't quite worked out the politics of these things, and besides, women usually couldn't resist leaping on me most of he time so it wasn't a problem.
Anyway, coke-dickhead returns from smoking his tenth spliff in the space of half an hour to find Indie Rock Princess sleeping peacefully, obviously not entertained by my psychotic monologues.
I still hate myself for it. We're still in touch though; just always miss each other whenever she comes back up north but exchange random late-night texts.
Some things are probably better left as fantasy. I dunno.
Oh, and were it to happen now (in case you were wondering for whatever reason), I'd have buggered her before the door was even locked. Got that?
