Her name was Julia and she was blonde. I also knew she was half-crazy. I’d found that appealing at first. Julia was dangerous in a way rarely found in the girls of Cheshire. Dating her was like licking the edge of a rusty Albanian or drinking cloudy liquids in Swansea. She was the kind of woman that comes along once in a man’s lifetime and it’s best to savour the experience so long as you’ve had the right shots.
We’d met in a Salford bar, played verbal ping pong as we waited for our cocktails to arrive. She was charming, humorous, and so nimble that she could scratch her own buttocks with both ears. Yet there was something else. If I made a joke, she would tightly grab my knee. I didn’t mind her being so forward but I wondered did she really have to grab it between her teeth. Then she suggested that we go back to her place to ‘boil some bunnies’. What could I say? I’m just a single northern bloke and Julia was from the Cheshire area. This was our first date and she was already suggesting we play out the third act of Fatal Attraction. I knew I was in for an adventure. We might make for a dangerous couple and end up like Bonnie and Clyde, or at least, Bunny and Clyde, played out against the backdrop of the Sandbach Services…
Or perhaps not.
I’ve never met a mad blonde bunny boiler from the Cheshire area and don’t know anybody called Julia, yet sometimes a search term stands out in the web statistics that you just have to respond…
I mean: what kind of depraved back story caused a man to go to Google at 17.21 today and type the following?
‘Have any other single northern blokes dated a blonde bunny boiler Julia from Cheshire area’.
There has to be a film script in this…by