Elsie-Rae always fancied having Double D's and that's exactly what she got after her boyfriend Ben dumped her, since that night in McDonald's car park her life has been one disaster and dilemma after another.
Now, she must learn to live her...
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I went out over the May bank holiday weekend, now you know how I haven't kissed anyone since Michael in December; it's not as if there's a queue of blokes waiting to stick their tongue down my throat.
All that changed on the bank holiday weekend after Dom Taylor brought me a double vodka and coke. It had been a long time coming, I'd known him since primary school we used to play together, Power Rangers mostly, he was the Red Ranger, and I'd be the Pink one.
So I was finally single there was no reason that I couldn't accept the drink that he offered, nothing was stopping me buying him one in return. We followed them up these new shots they were selling — it was called a Jungle Bomb. I have no idea what was in it, but I remember I felt a little bit drunk and then the DJ played some sped up version of a Dolly Parton song, and kissing Dom seemed like a good idea. It wasn't though; it was an awful idea, it was weird. I bolted from the club, jumped in a taxi and went home.
After that I realised that I couldn't face snogging any more blokes in the one club that my hometown had to offer, I didn't want to meet a guy, but if I did Enigma wasn't the place to do it. So I've joined a book club, I figured that it would be perfect for meeting someone who had a bit more about him. A guy who went to a book club would be cultured, a guy who got wasted in Enigma was not.
Anyway, the book club fits my new persona because I'm all sassy these days; it's like a mixture of sexy and classy. I needed to change my ways so when I did finally decide that the time was right for a boyfriend, I'd meet a gentleman, and we'd compliment each other perfectly, now that I was a lady.
I'd done a full-on Eminem and completely cleaned out my closet - all the barely-there clothes went in the bin, somehow I don't think the charity shop would've appreciated those. And then I poured the spare bottle of vodka I kept stashed in my room down the sink; I wouldn't need that anymore.
Aaron laughed, he said that I couldn't do it. According to him, I was neither classy or sexy, so I had no hope in hell of being sassy. Apparently being classy meant not drinking pints or swearing, and wearing a bra. Being sexy meant that I had to shave my legs more than once a month and stop squeezing my spots. But what the hell did Aaron know? He wasn't exactly sexy, and he had no class either. I could be sassy; it would be like one of those transformations that I'd seen on this television programme called Ladette to Lady. Steph used to love that programme, but then she's always been into trashy reality tv shows, she even suggested that I go one of those dating shows. I got an email confirming my place; I was actually up for it until I looked in the tv guide and saw that it aired at 11 pm on a Thursday night. I wasn't going to lower myself; I should've been on prime time television on a Saturday night, needless to say, I didn't go to my audition. Anyway, I didn't need any help from my sister or a television show to find a man, mainly because I didn't want one, and when I did, I'd find my own.
