Here’s a tip

If you happen to be on your way a booty home-visit at midnight on a Saturday, make very very sure you have the right house. Otherwise that first rattle of the letterbox could well  make the occupant immediately think of axe murderers; the second will make her wonder if it’s too late to turn off the TV and lights and pretend nobody’s home; and by the time you get round to ringing the doorbell do not be offended if the conversation that ensures is a little on the terse side, and runs something like this:

Bagelmouse: What.
Large man outside front door: Hello.
Bagelmouse: What.
LMOFD: Is Gemma there?
Bagelmouse: You’ve got the wrong house.
LMOFD: No, I haven’t.
Bagelmouse: You really have.
LMOFD: So, what, has she ever lived here?
Bagelmouse: I really wouldn’t know.
LMOFD: Oh. Right then.
[Bagelmouse retreats back into living room, shaking a bit]


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