Noreen signed my hand last night. In the middle of the pub. It says 'Noreen luvin Lucy xxx', by the way. This fine lassy is another UCD prodigy. Then I was on my way back from the loos and I had learned some dastardly piece of gossip on my way which I just had to tell her. Unfortunately the girl I grabbed and squealed at wasn't Noreen. A normal person might be embarrassed. Not me, I don't have morals. Or feelings. Or any discernable traits of humanity like realising when I'm behaving poorly.
I just said 'Oh darling, I thought you were Noreen!' Everyone knows Noreen. She just stared at me as if I was the most boring person on the whole planet. No one gets away with that. So I crossed my arms and gave her the hard stare. 'What's wrong with you? Noreen is one of the best-looking people I have ever seen in the flesh. And she autographed my hand. Me thinking you look like her, it's a fucking compliment, bitch.' She just gave me a bitchy open-mouthed look and I scooted off.
I have some thoughts you know. Sometimes I muse on the Big Stuff. And some times I worry about becoming the girl that everyone thinks is a drunken arse. Then I get over myself and get another drink. I'll worry about that when I hit twenty-four.