School for Scoundrels

Like clockwork, every Friday night, in that time between shuffling home from work, taking a two Fs and an A* shower and repreening for a night on the tiles, the door buzzer goes.  I know from experience it's going to be a young nameless and breathless lady calling for 'John' who lives in the flat next door.  I direct them accordingly and then forget all about it until just after chucking out time when Johnny Boy and his latest prey return.

I'm usually watching the end of 'Lisa Williams: Life among the Dead' - a very talented medium with hair like Limahl - when I'm reminded by a tower-shaking slam of the door to the building...FOUR FLOORS DOWN that loves young dream is back.   A stampede not unlike that of a herd of elephants in the wild out-running humans with firearms completes the routine followed by the tell tale creaking of horizontal olympics.

All TWO minutes of it. 

Got to hand it to the boy.  He gets it every Friday and he never repeats. Put it this way, if you have a good eye for detail and a photographic memory - you'll be wasting your talents here cos you won't be coming back.

Now I don't know if he deliberately gives them the wrong flat number or whether he doesn't give them his address at all.  Perhaps he gives them just enough of his address to make sure they get the right door and then leaves the girls to guess the number of his flat using the 'Joey Tribiani' method of counting across and up.  An endurance test? A test of true love?  or perhaps he's just a little bit of a wanker. 

Or as The Silverback says: Legend or Devil?

*Face, fanny and armpits...Emily Bronte...I. Am. Not. (sadly)