Gerald Exclusive! Men and women are different

Quinn sets out demands for labour

Those opposing Valentine's Day "sad, hairy virgins"

Water supplies to be carbonated by 2004 - FG

Delegates' confusion at "recent events" speech

X-ray Hotel guests claim false advertising

Somezing cooking vith zelebrity KP, Gustavo

Plastic Surgery For All

Top Trumps 2001

PR guru appalled by Harney flight

Unattended chip-pan fails to catch fire

War looms in the Wesht

TV blamed for Ulster outrages

US army intercepts Bray teenager

  Wow, 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!

I 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 to fall
through the cracks and gives them jobs in Top Shop. So you can understand how upset I was to see such a ride sitting there on the ground in the freezing cold, obviously with no place to go.

He 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 into
each other's souls, reached out across the boundary between our two worlds and touched, I was really fucking jealous of whatever homeless chick gets to curl up next to him in their sleeping bag in some doorway on Nassau Street at night.

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.




    Back issues     Breaking news     Story archives     About