samedi 24 septembre 2011

brad of july

So, this is the story of the cheeky little soldier (me) and the drunkest pirate on earth (brad). It can not be written in French. And my English sucks. That's about it.

I just came in this bar I've never been. I directly went to the bar, uncomfortable, with this friend that is not my friend. He offered me a beer and left on the dancefloor.
The man drinking just beside told me: "I think Flamenco is the most beautiful dance.  It's like watching fire." I laughed. I loved him already. He thought I was cute. He asked my name, didn't understand it at all, and told me he was Brad, you know, just like Angelina's one. I laughed again. He had one of the most adorable accent I've ever heard; He was from New Zealand.

We talked for hours.
The "friend" I came with left on his Harley.

Brad: I feel like the oldest man in this bar. A dinosaur...
Me: A dinosaur! Come on!
Brad: Oh wow, say it again.
Me: A dinosaur?!
Brad: Your accent is charming.
Me: You know Brad, you will not sleep with me unless you marry me.
Brad: You are so attractive with these words in your mouth.
Me: I was sure marriage was repulsive for men.
Brad: You are unreachable. I would live on a farm with you.

And I laughed.

I did my gentleman, because he was to drunk to play the role, and I walked him home. He asked me why I walked all this way if I was not going to have sex with him. "Do you think I'm cute ?" Of course, Brad. Smoke in the dark. Enjoy, because I will be gone soon.

Kissed him on the cheek good night. And no, I will not sleep on the couch, even if your cat is the nicest, my brave Brad. I pray for you desperate pirate I love.

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