“You’ve an ice-blocks chance in hell of me ever loving you,” she said as we sat sipping on our iced tea. “I mean,” she went on, “if you were in any way attractive there’d be a case to make but as you are as ugly as a hat full of arseholes there’s not much that can be said.”
Needless to say, there was a silence following her last statement. She slurped her drink down through her straw and looked out over the bay as if her mind like her body was imagining itself on the deck of a distant yacht.
“So why are you here?” I asked, my voice now resounding like a cracked cup of marshmallows.
“Well, you did ask. You did ring and say can we have a drink at the café. I’m not totally rude you know. I do know to be polite.”
There was more silence before she said. “Well if that is it, I’m off. She stood and as she left mentioned I needed to work on my people skills.