that homeless guy was really cute
by Josephine Devine
We met by the Banklink. I was getting out some cash before I headed over to Next, he was sitting on the ground holding out a cup looking for change. Usually I'd ignore him like the others, but, fumbling for my wallet in the queue, I somehow caught his eye and ... I don't know, something seemed to pass between us. Literally speaking, he asked me if I had a few spare pence, but the body-language said something else altogether. He looked at me with those beautiful brown eyes, and I felt I knew him. Besides which, that homeless guy was damn cute!
mean, really. You don't usually see that. There seems to be some unwritten
rule that pretty people don't have to sleep rough. There must be some
sort of a government action group which spots good-looking people about
looked all pouty and sorrowful, like Johnny Depp under a rug. Though now
that I think about it, he's probably got more reason to be sad than Johnny
Depp. Still, I bet he gets all the chicks. In that brief instant we looked
God, I thought, I wish I was homeless. Then I collected myself. I realised he was talking to me again. "Any change for a hostel, Miss?" he asked. Almost automatically, I replied "Not fucking likely," and walked past him to the ATM.
Ah well, that's love for you.