white trash stripper blues

"how big is your your dick?" asks the girl sat opposite me, it's my first night back in Plymouth and i have attracted the attentions of a young stripper called claire. she was probably what you guys would call "white trash", and seemed to find my hysterical laughter at comments such as "i've been smoking since i was ten" charming, rather than offensive. luckily (for me at least) her apocalypticly drunk friend started screaming and shouting at people, causing the removal of all of us from the bar. Then, with textbook timing two police cars roll up and decide to get involved. i took this opportunity to slink away from the scene, and when i looked back they were both sat on the floor in handcuffs. the rest of the week was spent surveying the emotional wreckage of my ex-flatmates' lives in the wake of my departure- i dont think they want me to leave the country again, they cant be trusted.