Pied Piper
I was clomping along, as is my unelegant fashion, late for an appointment at Recruitment Agency #457, when before me appeared a goddess. She did not clomp, she glided along George Street with her long golden limbs, impossibly wispy waist and groovy handbag. Her hair was a perfect sheet of black curls, cut in layers so it looked like a big arrow pointing to the small of her back, where a tattoo peeked out from the top of her jeans.
"Sluuuuut. I hate you," was my natural reaction.
But of course every male in the vincinity responded differently. Three lads in baggy pants were nudging and phwoaring and leaning forward to read the tattoo.
Then came along the navy suit with the melty icecream. Then the tourist with his shiny head burned bright red, being slapped by his wife for looking.
In just two and a half blocks this goddess managed to accumulate no less than eight men trailing behind her, all desperately trying to look like they weren't following her, all straining to read that bloody tattoo.
Finally, she sashayed into a dress shop, and the crowd dispersed.
Can you imagine having such power over people? None of them followed me. Bastards.
Comments
Comments are now closed for this entry. You can always send an email instead!about this entry
wnp
skulking elsewhere
shauna reid my book?
OUT NOW!
UK · Ireland · Canada · Australia · New Zealand · And elsewhere...
Buy from Play.com, Waterstones, Amazon UK and lots of other booksellers.
Join the Facebook group Go Dietgirl Go! for book news
Maybe it's a thing where you don't know if someone is following you trying to read a tattoo on your lower back region? Like the "goddess" (as you insist on calling her) might have had no idea she was being followed by various men of different ages. And in the same way, you might not have known that you were being followed by another eight men, eh? ;)
mmmm. Ice cream.
Catch her talking and you'll see seven out of eight turning around and looking elsewhere. The eighth will pay for it.
well, there are even larger crowds following you, as you know. They just disperse as soon as you hit this page.
It is one thing to attract a bunch of guys before they read a tattoo in a certain place and it is a completely different game to attract a huge, ever growing, amazed crowd after they know details about your teeth, what happened after your birth and who knows what...
I think you are a clear winner on this one. I could go on and on... (I hear mouse-clicks... need to disperse now...)
SO my following this page don't count? Arse.
Besides... I'd be following if I could afford the airfare. This you know.
it was supposed to be an amusing entry.
You know, when I was a teenager, I was extremely, extremely hot. But, of course, constantly in a bad mood. People would look, thinking phwoar, and I would yell 'wtf are you LOOKING AT, chump?' because I didn't realise they were perving. Thought they were just gawping at my clothes or something. It doesn't happen any more. Oh me.
Plus, you're plenty elegant. So there.
I'd've followed ye, Shorners! Gwoaaaaa...
Well, that's me told.
Mmmmm ... sluts... :)
I think what I'm most disapointed with, in regards to this post, is that you didn't even have your camera with you to take a picture of her.
Witold writes wisely. (Writing the wrest of that tongue-twrister is left as an exercise for the wreader.)
Hmmm, I wonder if Goddess Sluuuuuuuut is plagued by disconcerting feelings of being followed by clouds of pervs?
Don't worry, she'll be driven insane by all the attention very soon .
("They're...always...WATCHING...MEEEE!!!)".
She'll climb a clocktower with a carbine, mark my words.
So... Uhh... what'd the tattoo say?
;)
Mmm, lower back tattoos.
I love chicks with lower back tattoos.
What a great fashion.
I bet if I had a lower back tattoos no chicks would be staring after it to try and read what's in there between the hairs...
i gotz a tattoo..............it's right under my belly button!!!it's a star