Mademoiselle

I can’t stand it. This dating game is an absolute unpredictable farce. Exactly where/when/how am I supposed to meet my next boyfriend. Went to my local pub on Friday night for their messy but fun Halloween party. My outfit was a sort of murdered Joan Collins, all tight electric blue dress, laddered stockings and lots of smudged red lippy. Sultry and sort of sexy, maybe. Anyway, I spied at the bar a lovely boy who I’ve fancied for sometime now so in the spirit of the evening, I decided to go in for the kill. After about an hour of my very best chat up lines, fluttery eyelashes (fake, extended and perhaps a bit too long), lots of leg crossing and uncrossing he asked me who I had come as. Just as I was about to say ‘A Murdered Joan Collins’ when he blurted out ‘STOP! I know, I know, I’ve got it! You’re supposed to be Kenny Everett when he does that ALL IN THE BEST POSSIBLE TASTE sketch?!!’ OMG, didn’t he have a hairy chest when he played that character? To make matters worse he then started chatting up my friend who had come dressed as a Nun, not a sexy one, a fully covered up one! I mean please! After regaining composure, I left the nit wit and the nun to get on with it. Count Dracula was beckoning me over from the corner. Fangtastic!