So there I was, at the jam. My Frenchspeaking pal wanted to recover his backpack - but he’d be damned - one hell of a body was sitting on top of it. He, not scared of a lady, started a conversation about his backback being just underneath her tiny little butt.
The girl looked up in surprise, saying some rubbish. He stared at here, then turned to me: “Man, you speak English. Please, talk to her. I need my bag. Now!”

Me, myself and I, we stood up: “We beg our pardon but the man wants the backpack you’re sitting on, girl.”

“Ok,” she replied and lifted her ass. He was happy, and I thought, why not start a conversation? After all, socializing is a healthy habit, right?

“So, euh, you speak English?”

“Yeah, as you can hear,” she replied, turning her head in the air like nobody had ever done to me before.

Honestly, it felt like a kick in the nuts, so I was all shook up and got back to her: “Well, I couldn’t see, I could only hear, your highness!”

“Yeah, like whatever,” was all she said, giving me the evil eye.

She’s got shit for brains, my inner-voice told, fast as I could I turned my back and for the rest of the night she looked at me, in a cute/dumb way. Seriously though, I think she was too damn rich. There are better ways to treat a =lloyd=, I say!