“Where did you get the hat?”
Prince Phillip, To his wife, the Queen, after her coronation
Chapter Six
Post 261:
The royal family. If you're a foreigner coming to visit the UK, just assume that the common Brit knows nothing about the royal family! I couldn't name the queen off the top of my head if you asked me to! Therefore, do not assume that British men will treat you like royalty, because they won't — they have no idea to how royalty is treated.
"Aw, shit," Nora swore, making Milo slightly confused. "Yea, I'll be there as soon as possible," Nora replied, before handing up and putting her phone back into her pocket.
"What's wrong?” Milo asked, slightly confused.
"Em, my friend, Skye, was caught by the police," Nora explained, trying to figure out which route to take to the police station. The lights and the crowd made it hard for Nora to figure out which direction to walk in. She hated the fact that her best friend was in trouble for something that she too should be be getting into trouble for.
"The blonde?” Milo asked, referring to the girl who had been holding up the boombox earlier when Nora was dressed up as an elephant, and in fact, still was dressed in the grey elephant costume. Nora nodded in reply. "Why were you doing that anyway?" he questioned.
"It was a dare, me and my friend had drawn on her face last night and that was my punishment,” she explained.
"Your punishment was a dare?”
"I can't say no... It's a curse. In my defence, she did write, 'I'm sexy and I know it' on the back of my jacket" she shrugged in reply to Milo's question.
"Oh so that's why you had that written on the back of your jacket!" Milo replied, "So what police station do you need to go to?" he asked. He didn't want to leave, but he knew that Nora had to go pick up her friend and there was no way he was losing her right now.
"Em... the one on Agar Street apparently," Nora asked before making up her mind on which direction to go in. "Come on,"
They walked for about four minutes, just talking about anything before they came to the police station where Skye was being detained.
“YOU CAN'T KEEP ME HERE! I KNOW MY RIGHTS!" Skye shouted, practically swinging off the bar, caging her in. She had been in the police station for almost 4 hours now, and she was getting very quite bored. For the first three hours of her stay, there was a crying hooker who was a part time stripper. Skye thought it was just sad that hookers were crying — nobody want's to see a crying hooker, it's just depressing. By the end of the hooker's stay, Skye had convinced her that getting a boob job would give her more self confidence and told the hooker to stop screwing her pimp, or at least start charging him. But then the hooker left, and Skye was left to fend for herself.
"LET ME GO!" She screamed once more. The cell she was in stank of the hooker's cheap perfume and other assorted smells which should never be smelt outside a bathroom.
"Shut up, for god's sake, just shut up!" the guy in the cell next to her complained, rubbing his head with his hand. He had been sat in the corner, with his head between his legs, threatening to puke for the last forty minutes. His angry brown eyes were now looking up from the floor and now looked at the crazy blonde in the cell next to his.
YOU ARE READING
British Guys Aren't Cute
Romance'Fact: British guys are not cute. Never have been; never will be!' Meet Nora. During the day, she's a crazed, Irish student trying to survive the insanity which is London. At night, she's a blogger, trying to prove to the world that British guys ar...
