Have been permanently banned from newest love interests unit block. Apparently, cover band bassists don't appreciate it when you knock on everyone's door in the block asking the neighbours to sign a petition to have him chuck the band and go solo. With moi as his agent, I guaranteed he would be my one and only client and I would look after him very very well! Some people don't know it when a genuine opportunity lands in their lap. Maybe I should consider door knocking at 2.00pm instead of 2.00am??

Poor new love interest has indeed not known what's happened to his previously quiet and inane existence. All I did was climb through his window and lay wantonly on his bed awaiting his arrival. What harm? Although he didn't seem impressed with the state I'd left his liquor cabinet and undies drawer in. And perhaps my wanton look of wearing 10 pairs of his boxers all over my person and the possibility I was passed out and he couldn't get to the iPod dock remote which was blasting "Shiny Shiny" on high rotation. Still I say, what harm?

Discovered can actually bestow myself upon two unwilling participants at once. Sat on front stoop of beloved/arch nemesis' abode singing "Throw Your Arms Around Me" at top of voice repeatedly whilst sent 257 texts/vmails (including pics of me in various states of drunkenness on a stoop) to new cover band bass guitarist love interest. One is used to my delightful quirkiness whilst the other poor innocent won't know what hit him!

FiFi Jo's New Job

Awake still fully dressed in yesterday’s outfit of faux-Chanel pink suit with faux-fur trim and midnight blue six inch heels.  I am ready to hit the shops, determined to buy a newspaper and spend the morning perusing the job's section.  I am confident a suitable job with an enormous pay check and short hours where I don’t have to move or think will suddenly appear.

As my second floor apartment is located above the bottle shop on Main Street, I leisurely make my way to the Newsagency, passing a department store along the way. Think I’ll just have a little look-see.  What harm?  Ooooh look!  A sale bin full of designer knickers.  How can a girl resist?  Start throwing pretty pastel printed pants all over the shop in an ecstasy normally kept behind closed doors.  Reach down to pick up a pair with sparkling stars on them, when instead feel another hand.  Hmmm, I am prepared to put up a struggle if need be.  Am in luck.  The hand is definitely male and as my eyes move upwards discover a pair of the blackest, most intense eyes a girl could fall into.  However, not being one for falling unless it’s off a bar table top at two a.m., I am immune to this delectable male specimens charms.  So far.  He chuckles at me something about my stamina and persistence and feels that an alcoholic beverage would be in order to “calm me down”.  Little does he know the effect is usually quite the opposite.   

Never one to turn down a free drink, he guides me to the in house café.  There we spend the entire afternoon together sharing expensive bottles of wine (bought by him), extremely witty banter (mostly by me), sexy laughter (me again), fluttering eyelashes (that’s him), suggestive licking of lips (both of us), sliding off chairs (that’d be me), snoring on the floor (yep, me again), and yelling and screaming over a waste of time and money (all him – charming aint he?).

NEXT DAY:

Awake to flashing in my eyes. Seems I have been placed in the department store window and am a vital part of the installation for the new women’s wear floor.  It’s an art work piece on the humiliation of women in modern society.  I am employed in my dream job!