I’d Hate to be Accused of Prejudice but...

It is so sad to be proved correct when cruelly pre-judging and stereotyping people.

Fresh-or maybe not so much- from work we attended the M and P Models summer party in aka. It is never a great deal of fun to be the fattest, shortest and ugliest girl in the room but it was worth it for the beautiful boy viewing and free bar.

There were cheekbones and pouty lips in abundance and I chatted to one of these male fashion specimens, trying to be open minded.

The pretty boy could hardly speak for slurring; there was a time delay before each answer and then when it came it didn’t make sense. Trying to have a conversation was a painful process and talking to a wall may well have been more productive. I attributed this to the free flowing spirits, for I myself was in no fit state to talk of wildly intelligent things.

I stirred my straw as a welcome distraction.
‘What are you drinking?’ asked Mr Model
‘Vodka and diet coke, how about you?’
‘Just coke, I’m driving home’

Oh dear.