Chapter 5

I knew now where this woman was and knew who she was- the next step is to get her to know me, or the part of me I wanted her to know, call me partial but I wanted to party with this girl and like all great parties it would have to go all night long.

A great party-

just

No dance floor- but some great moves
No food- but still pretty yum
No band- unless she is into the kinda thing

But a party needs planning-

Step one is to get her to notice me-

I could ofcourse show her my Raw manliness- but unfortunately my manliness wasnt raw just undercooked.

I did have the rugged good looks but you need to take a really good, close look to spot it.

I could ofcourse use my charm but knowing me a rabbits foot would have a better chance of getting the girl.

I could use my great sense of humour to get her into an interesting conversation-

"knock knock"
"whose there?"
"dick"
"dick who?"
"Just Dick, can I cum in?"

I could always just go to class and do the classic, oops my pen fell routine. Too easy, like stealing candy from a baby, as a matter of fact it was easier then that, it was more like stealing candy from a deaf, dumb, blind and malnourished African street baby who does not have the energy to hold on to candy let alone know what candy is.

and then I saw her, sitting, laughing, giggling, digging her nose- She was soo beautiful- the tip of her slender finger caressing the perfectly round rim of her suttle nose. Inching bit by bit deep inside the warmth of her simmering, sexy smeller. OH SO BEAUTIFUL... and I was happy and I was lost in a memory of her when she was sitting in the arabic class room.

but she walked away before I could make a move
happiness gone

Its funny how happiness is never in the place you think it is most likely to be in. It is always one step ahead of you or with someone else. Happiness is a lot like queues, the one you are in is always longer or moving slower then the others once. I guess that’s the beauty of happiness its so hard to find and when you do find it, it never lasts. But when we remember the great times of our lives they are never the moments of happiness it’s the hunt for it that we remember. Things are always crap when they are going on but they are the good old days when they pass. Its weird how before is always better then now. I guess it’s the beauty of nostalgia, but even nostalgia isn’t like what it used to be.