Apparently I'm a sex offenderI was once paid £15 to count the amount of people visiting a hairdresser. I stood outside for 3 hours with a clicky counter in my pocket, pressing it every time a person entered. Suddenly there's a copper in front of me, I turn and there's another behind. "What are you up to sunshine?" "A rival hairdresser wants to count the competition" "Well, there's been a call from the shop owner that there's a ginger bloke standing outside fiddling with his cock." Have you ever done anything that made strangers think you were a pervert?
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rob, Thu 17 Aug 2006, 22:20)
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Reader, I could have married him.Jesus, I’ve thought of another, I’m starting to scare myself.
I’m a woman of fairly simple tastes when it comes to men. I’m not too fussed about hair or eye colour, occupation doesn’t bother me, I don’t have a fetish for accents, anything like that. I just like a bloke who’s taller than me, who I find attractive and who can make me laugh. One day, when I was 19, I’m sat in my local and a bloke walks in, sits at the next table, looks over and smiles at me. “Ooh, hello” I thought “he’s cute”. So being a little tipsy, I take the plunge and go over and chat to him. We’re getting along famously; he’s funny, looks great and it’s all going swimmingly. We leave the pub and head down towards the prom, a well known spot for those intent on the delicate art of seduction (or date rape). We sit on a bench and share our first kiss. And it’s wonderful. But wait, he has to leave. Why must our love be torn apart so soon? “I’ll see you next Saturday, Rak” he said. And with that he was gone…
Fast forward a few days and I’m driving back from a friend’s house. It’s about 3.30pm and the school run’s in full flow, the traffic’s backed up and I’m sat idling in a queue. I look out of the window and see a group of lads wearing the uniform of the local comprehensive school ambling down the street. One looks disturbingly familiar…
I pulled over to the side of the road, wound down the window and shouted “Tom, could you come here for a moment, please.” His face drained of colour when he realised it was me. He sheepishly shuffled over and said “I was going to tell you.” “What, next week? After your GCSE’s? At the birth of our first child? Just how old are you?”
He was 14.
As I drove off, self respect in tatters, I heard his mate say “What did your big sister want?”
As an aside, I keep having highly inappropriate thoughts about Alex Pettyfer, the lad in the film Stormbreaker. And he’s 16. I’m just a dirty old bitch.
(, Tue 22 Aug 2006, 13:28, Reply)
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