These were the opening lines from a young, drunk Irish man to me last night. They were followed by “do you know where a prostitute house is?”
Oooer. Um….no? Not around here anyway
I then directed him to nearby suburb, where urban legend has it, are many a “prostitute house”.
The young lad then preceded to say that he didn’t want myself and the boy to judge him, again that he didn’t want this to reflect badly on his character and hopefully he’d never see us again.
We wished him luck on his endeavour and he went on his merry way. Not, however, before adding “Now….block this from your memory”
We walked on, and 10 seconds later saw him get into a taxi and head for said suburb.
Laugh! I nearly did.