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About Florence

This bloke calls, all nervous—pathetic! “Hey, mate, u free tonite?” Voice shakin’ like a soggy soufflé. I’m like, “Grow a pair, ya muppet!” Sex-dating’s brutal—did ya know 1 in 5 matches flake? Little fact for ya, ya numpty. I’ve seen it—chattin’ up some bird online, she’s all “oooh yeah,” then poof—gone! Makes me mad as hell. “What’s the matter with you?!” I’d yell if I could. Happy bit? When it works—shagged a stunner once, felt like Tony bleeding Curtis in *Brooklyn*. “You’re tearing me apart!”—nah, mate, it was glorious!

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Finally, I make it to the woods. Ah, sweet relief. Trees everywhere, smell of pine. But then, I see it. A bunch of kids playin’ hide and seek. They’re screamin’ and laughin’, and I’m thinkin’, “Great, just what I need. A bunch of tiny humans in my work zone.” But then, one of ‘em trips and falls. I can’t help but chuckle. Kids, man. They bounce back like rubber balls.

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