WOW. Holy crap. The most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen in your life is right in front of you, making sandwiches at a deli counter in Spar. How is this girl not a model? How has some talent agent not ‘discovered’ her, taking her far from this life of chicken fillet rolls, far away to the land of catwalks and photoshoots and red carpet events?
Where is she from? She’s certainly not Irish; her features are too striking, her hair too sleek and black and majestic and wonderful. Her eyes are the most piercing blue you’ve ever seen. Her figure defies biology; everything looks like it was designed to be perfect. Every curve is in perfect proportion. She glows with health.
Where were girls like this when you were growing up? Where was this goddess when you were looking for someone to take to your debs? It’s almost unfair how the country only started attracting stunning Eastern European women just when you left the single market. There was a time, ten years or more ago, when you could have asked her out on a date; maybe go to the cinema, or to a nice restaurant. Go for a long walk by the beach. Be the envy of every man that passed you by; ‘Jesus’, they’d say, ‘look at the woman he has. She’s amazing. He’s the luckiest man in…’ sorry love, what was that?