She came down the short wide flight of stairs just inside the ever open doors of “Sunset Strip” holding her feathery flimsy wrap tight around her shoulders. She looked cold. Maybe if she had been wearing more than a lace trimmed black bra and knickers, a suspender belt and black stockings she would have been warmer. Well it must be a tough job.
But I couldn’t help noticing as I passed, that she had some small holes ripped in the top of those stockings – I wonder if she can claim the outfit as work wear and get some kind of tax deduction?
So I move on down Dean Street through the drizzle that is working hard to be upgraded to snow and try to find a newsagent that stocks “Classic Rock” magazine.
It is cold, no wonder the dark haired girl in too few clothes looked chilly.
I find a copy of the magazine in a newsagents on Old Compton Street that has far too many magazines in it, pay up and head for Mollys. Jay from Tasmania is behind the bar and pours my drink without asking me what I want. Cocky fucker.
Mollys is thankfully empty apart from us, and after a few words of empty banter I sit in a window seat and start to read. I keep my headphones out as for once the music is not as awful as normal. Some sort of ambient jazz shit that I can put up with.
A little while later when a few more people have come in I overhear a guy at the bar and Jay talking to a woman who is ordering drinks…
Jay “you look a little less stressed than when you came in”
Woman “Well I just spent the morning in a meeting of the Engineering and technical committee of (blah blah blah) with a load of the countries top engineers”
Jay “and there we were” indicates man at bar “saying how there are no good engineers left in the country”
Woman “Oh the one I am drinking with is brilliant, he is a lighting engineer”
At this point I refrain from saying over my shoulder “Oh he can change a fucking light bulb without help, you’re an easy lay if you are impressed by that” but didn’t. I didn’t need to – man at the bar was twat enough for us both.
“Oh I’m an actor and you really need a good lighting engineer on set”
Yeah, this guy was an actor the way I am a rock star – in his own deluded mind.
So I finish my reading and drinking and head out onto the street. I decide to have a look in the barbers round the corner as my head needs another “No 1” before my trip to Edinburgh tomorrow.
To my delight I see that the hot curvy Mediterranean style milf who cut my hair last time is working today, but to my dismay I see they are full of customers and I have to get back to work. I will pop back later.
For some reason Old Compton Street and Greek Street smell of Turkey and Stuffing. I walk along trying to figure out if I am having a neurological episode or if it is really too fucking close to Christmas for comfort.
