My date with Candy.

Essay by Keir October 2005

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My first date with Candy is a good illustration of the kind of women attracted to me. For my part I felt I owed it to myself to pursue her as she was a model and on a scale of ten was a 9 in my ranking. However, all the qualities that made up her beauty came at the expense of her intelligence, and would fully justify all the things related about blondes were she not a red-head.

Anyway, we went to the Polish community centre as it sold alcohol at the cheapest rate in the North end. There I was met by some unkempt gentleman who appeared to have been hastily assembled in some dingy laboratory. He appeared to be at least 6half feet tall with a scraggly beard and a T-shirt with holes and tears throughout. "Hey," he called out to me as soon as I met his line of vision, "don't I know you? We got into a fight, didn't we?" Despite my protests he would have none of it.

"Sure we did. You delivered pizza to my house once." It was difficult to arm myself against such logic so I waited impatiently for Candy to help me out. "Listen, you touch my sister you die" With that he lurked off for another drink.

After 5 minutes recovering from this I was met by another who loked the antithesis of the former but who I learned was the brother. His name was Mike and he had a shot of black hair gelled back that suited his suit. We shook hands and I was relieved to meet a normal person. He was with his girlfriend and suggested we all go off to a cafe for drinks and a bite to eat.

Around a quiet little table we sat,