A HARD SITUATION

The dilemma of booking a London Escort can be tough. You`re at the pub with some friends, fish and chips on the way, a cold pint in your hand and everyone is talking for hours about how nobody cares enough to talk about Wayne Rooney. Then you realise it`s your shout, and normally this wouldn’t be any trouble at all. You can just jump up and wander over to the bar, order a few pints of anything as long as it`s not Fosters. Then sit back down and try not get so drunk that you turn up to work three hours late (there`s only so many times you can say you were late because of a tube strike, trust me). But the thing is, you can`t stand up at the table right now, you can`t go and get a round for all your mates. This is not because you`ve suddenly started trying to save up for a mini-bake oven of your very own, but because of what you`ve been thinking about.

The fact is that if you stand up now at this table in front of all your mates there will be one glaringly obvious issue that no one will be able to hide, you can try to tuck it into your belt but let`s be honest, there is nothing that`s going to save you here, because you were thinking about last night: The night you spent with one of our a London escort. Maybe she was a blonde escort, or maybe an asian girl or a slim girl or not, it depends on your taste. And while Chris was sitting there watching the fire and Adam was watching Chris watching the fire and Steve was watching the waitress  and Irish Joe was rambling to no one in particular about the good old days in Dublin when you didn’t have to pay four pound for a pint, you were sitting there thinking about the night before that started with dinner or a few drinks and ended the way all truly great nights end.  Your mind started to wander until in your head you were right back there looking at a stunning girl you knew you were spending the night with. Then you crash back to reality and you`re in the predicament where you can`t stand up becaue half of you already is. It`s your shout. You panic, but then you and everyone else in the pub watches a scene that is so familiar to everyone as  Steve decides to run over and try to pick up the waitress. He staggers over to the bar, holding on the red brick wall over the fire for support, not realising that he is now the main attraction this Friday night. He blurts something out to the waitress that he thinks is the smoothest line in the world but sends the pub into hysterics. Then bang, Steve falls flat on his face like a dropped pool cue. The waitress has no idea what to do, and everyone has forgotten that it`s your shout, so you just sit there and think to yourself, `should`ve got an escort`.

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