Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Phyllis and I took a trip into the city centre yesterday. I needed to have my spectacles repaired by the idiots at Vision Express, to send some things off from the Post Office and to buy a sheet.
We arrived on Princes Street at lunch time and headed for Prêt à Manger. We like it there because it's usually chav-free. They're intimidated by things like crayfish, rocket and wasabi.
The lunch itself was nothing out of the ordinary, but the conversation was! Sadly, not my conversation, but this immoral bint who was sat next to me!
If there were such a thing as an Overheard In Edinburgh website, I'd report what I'd heard. The dirty madam. They were dropping Es like smarties. She'd got off with both her boyfriend's parents. One morning, after getting drunk, she woke up spooning with her friend's bloke. He was hard and his todger was in-between the cheeks of her botty. So she spat on her hand and let him in...! She'd used a champagne bottle on herself in a nightclub, right in the middle of the dancefloor. Her landlord had caught her wanking. She knew he was looking so carried on regardless, just for the thrill. She'd found a pound coin in her knickers and had no idea how it got there. Last night, she'd met this bloke after fighting over the same taxi. His cock was so massive, it wouldn't fit in her fanny, so they had a bit of anal instead.
At least she wasn't boring.
To have such a conversation is one thing, but to conduct it at a volume where everyone around can hear, well, it's a disgrace! Ian thinks they were just out to shock. If they were, they succeeded. Not with me, I was just appalled. But some of the other people in the vicinity must have brought their lunch up.