Part Two, Bus Stop Chica

After the usual early twenties many nights on the piss in the pubs of Southend and Rochford spending more money on beer than food rent and petrol put together and I did a 1,000miles a month in my many cars and bikes. I got to 25 and couldn’t cope with the hangovers so I stared running to keep fit and give me an excuse to not drink so much. Well I was out running round the city of Lleida, I stopped near a bus stop to warm down with some stretches and eyeballed a young blond. She didn’t get on the bus when it came so I said hello I’m English and she jumped on me ‘me encanta, me encanta’. I we exchanged numbers and she came to see me the night before I was due to fly back to home. I had no idea what she was saying and my flat mates thought she was dangerous but I’ve never laughed so much in bed with a bird. She was a hair model with lots of that classic Latin passion that we Brits get to hear about, but completely insane. We met up about a year later to repeat the event, after that I never saw her again.