Come Together [antikvár]

The IdealSay you're a girl. Say you're a girl and you're at a party, or in a pub, or in a club. Say you're a girl and you're at a party, or in a pub, or in a club, and I come up to you.Say you've never set eyes on me before.Some things you'll know immediately. You'll see that I'm just under six feet tall and of average build. If we shake hands, you'll notice that my grip is strong and my fingernails clean. You'll see that I have brown eyes which match my brown hair. And you'll see that I have a scar across the centre of my left eyebrow. You'll guess that I'm somewhere between twenty-five and thirty years old.Say you like what you see enough to talk to me.We'll chat and, if things go well between us, you'll find out more. I'll tell you that my name's Jack Rossiter. If you ask me about the scar, I'll tell you that my best friend. Matt Davies, shot me with an air pistol when I was twelve years old. I'll tell you that I was lucky not to lose an eye and my mother wouldn't have Matt in the house for a year. I'll tell you that Matt is less volatile these days and that I'm comfortable with the situation to the extent that I now consider it safe to live under the same roof as him. I'll tell you that he works for a City law firm, but I won't tell you that he owns the house and I pay him rent. You'll ask me what the house is like and I'll tell you that it's a converted pub in west London and that, yes, we have kept the pool table and dartboard and bar, but, no, we haven't given visiting rights to the violent alcoholic who used