wolverhampton.....
no.... not in wolverhampton, but wolverhampton is key to this story

a few years ago, recently fresh from a relationship, and rusty to fuck in the ways of "getting with the ladies" (something in which i've never been a master at the best of times), our hero (that's me by the way) finds himself dressed as a ghostbuster, standing in a hotel bar.

My friend turns to me and says "that girl just asked if i'm with you". i shrug, and somewhat bemused turn away to find myself faced with said girl.

Now, bearing in mind this was a birthday party for someone in their middle twenties, i wasn't really expecting to be hit with "you should come and talk to my friend", but i dug out the time honoured response "no, your friend should come and talk to me"... to which i am met with "if you were a gentleman and a scholar, you'd come and talk to my friend"... a short time later, having established that i am not of this category, and am in fact an alcoholic and a pervert, which would be considered acceptable, i am talking to her friend, who is dressed in Holly Golightly Hepburn style. Having resisted my usual discourse about Holly being a prostitute (i've read the book y'know!) and realised this girl is quite presentable, i'm met with the question "so, where do you think i'm from"..... now it's loud and i cant hear any real accent, so i shrug, pick a random town just outside Bristol and then let her correct me.

Wolverhampton


Wolver-Fucking-Hampton


the armpit of the world


i freeze dead.

i have nothing

eventually i manage to stammer out

"well that must be why you're here then"

she doesnt get it, and asks me what i mean

"well wolverhampton's shit....."

i made my excuses and hid behind my big mate until we moved on
(court escaper, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 21:53, 1 reply)

I'm clicking this.
Just because I know exactly how shit Wolverhampton is.

(It's really shit, by the way.)
(ConanTroutman thought we would free the vulture, Mon 14 Dec 2009, 10:54, closed)