I had the misfortune recently to be accosted by a rather unpleasant girl, whose name I care not to remember, and whisked off on a rather depressing date. Although in reality it was more like an audience. I sat there, wondering whether I should quaff my expensive lager in one and order three more for good measure, as she prattled on endlessly about her ex boyfriend with the nice car, her new shoes, her bag and her day at work when I suddenly realised she had asked me a question. Yes, I replied, of course. She seemed satisfied with my perfunctory reply and commenced on what she obviously perceived to be a hilarious anecdote. At this point, two beers to the good, I began fantasising about debauching and defiling her little pert body in the most unspeakable way. She did after all have the appearance of a footballer's girlfriend, what with her petite bottom, slit skirt, large belt and blonde highlights framing a dull but sexually arousing face. I was hypothesising about her reaction to my seminal fluid splashing over her startled countenance when she announced we should go to another bar because this one just didn't have the right atmosphere. Five minutes later I found myself standing outside a conventional pub as she chugged her way through two cigarettes. I fancied to myself that she would continue smoking even as I was spanking her bottom firmly from behind while simultaneously 'invading her privacy'. At this point she suggested that I wasn't showing much interest in her at all. Of course I demurred, insisting that she was very attractive and should consider having another drink. Half an hour later, and by now on to my fifth consecutive mental depravity without a break, she announced we would head towards her home and have a drink at the local pub. We so commenced our walk to the train, when I noticed she was not looking ahead of her in the conventional manner but instead gazing at the wall to our right and protruding, if not wiggling, her posterior. It took me a few moments to realise she was admiring her reflection, and in addition encouraging me to admire her reflection as well. At this I laughed heartily, but she was not disabused of her ridiculous self-aggrandisement and continued all the way to the tube. I had a mind to walk away at that moment, but as usual my second brain countered that something pleasurable might be obtained from this evening if I brought my considerable charms to bear. And so we progressed to the next hostelry, at which events took a rather bizarre turn. In the space of a single minute she not only suggested that I wouldn't be able to go back to her house because her brothers and father would assault my person, but also that I should walk her home and take a look at her bedroom. This contradictory lady then appeared to subject me to some kind of aptitude test, interrogating me on whether I wanted to get married and have children, and if so what they would be named. I struggled on blindly, thinking that this was what this ludicrous creature took for foreplay, only to be confronted with the suggestion that I take her to Barbados. Oh yes, Barbados, of course, I said. We shall go in a few weeks. I admit I had hoped this would allow me entrance to her less-than-sacred chalice but, alas, she was rather taken aback. She then announced that I should walk her home. Thinking I could yet salvage some testicular stimulation from the situation I subjected her to a textbook passionate kiss adjacent to some deserted parkland. We continued to trade tongues and fluids for some time, but as it was a cold night and she did not seem the type to fornicate on a treestump behind a bush, I let her loose. No doubt overcome with emotion and struggling to contain her desire, she bid me goodnight and entered her family abode, never to be seen or heard from again.