The Bitch in the Pink Thigh Boots

The door bell rang.

She answered, and then was led away into the back of a police car…


One Year Earlier

Not many people got me. I was lost inside my own head, with all sorts of bad thoughts.

I needed a friend. Someone stepped up.

For all the wrong reasons

The town I lived in was full of blue-rinsers or chavs. It was either a night out at the bingo, possibly dying before you get to say BINGO, or hanging outside Subway riding a scooter whilst smoking stolen cigarettes.

The local pub would have a nightly screaming match outside about 2am, the pavements decorated in glass and Kofte kebab, spread in a puddle of it’s ominous special sauce.

Well this is the story of how I befriended another local. Some called her the The Local Bike. Everyone had a ride.

I was working at a discount store.


It was bloody awful. We sold crap basically, photo frames, cheap fondue sets and hoses. We had a chasm of Star Trek: Voyager VHS tapes that we couldn’t pay to get rid of.

The company has mostly gone bust  We had to move bins and waterbutts out on the display outside each day, and one would be packed full of garden rakes. Each working shift I could potentially end up impaled in a job I hate.

A new girl had moved to the area, I thought she looked quite interesting, so I stalked her on Bebo. Her profile  showed her in her pink bra necking a bottle of orange Reef.

The sad thing is I think both Bebo and Reef are now extinct.

We struck up an unlikely friendship and we began to go down the local pubs together. We would often drink orange juice and vodka, up until the point I could no longer drink orange juice without feeling nauseous. She would pay for my drinks and I enjoyed having a social life in such a fuddy duddy town.


My attraction for her plummeted as we began our routine of getting drunk, going out and her making out with random different guys each time, of various ages and questionable morals. One time she had sex behind Natwest at 7pm. It was pratically still daylight.

She would often go out to the local pubs dressed in a nurse’s outfit and thigh high vinyl pink boots. She looked bloody ridiculous. She would also be covered in tattoo’s of various different boyfriends. Jack on her stomach and Dwayne on her neck.


It was a bizarre time in my life. Us bouncing down the pubs and drinking. We didn’t talk that much about anything. I would just watch her cop off with some bloke and sat around making polite conversation with random people. More people, mostly who had issues, soon joined. Everyone with half a brain joined her pseudo cult. She had a bit of confidence and could talk to people, she became the millennial messiah, dressed in her slutty robes.

She find other people to babysit her, but months later we got back in contanct. Eventually I ended up going to her flat to chill out, she always seemed to be keen on seeing me. Although most of the time she would snap and I would hide away in her living room, whilst she would be talking to guys on Facebook (it was a recent invention back then) watching Jeremy Kyle and cooking dinners for me. She would be unable to go out in public alone, and would often contact me at weird times so she didn’t have to be alone going out for breakfast.

She lived and copulated with a guy in his 30s, who was absolutely oblivious to her crazy lifestyle. She would come back in the mornings from sleeping with guys in their 40s, covered in lovebites, and her boyfriend would often ask me ‘but does she love me?’



She had to keep a record of the guys she was with in case one got her pregnant.

The last time I saw I was around her house, and she was cooking me this awful frozen chicken from the Co-operative. Suddenly the police had turned up and she was bundled into their car. She and her corruptible friend (who was from a children’s home of all places) had stolen some guys DVD players and a TV.

She had asked to stash it at mine and help them carry it, luckily I didn’t get involved in this con. I had felt proud of myself I had said no, instead I should have run far away many moons ago.

She since then had pushed a wheelchair onto a train track. She later caused a storm in the back of a police van after a messy night out, causing it to violently wobble from side to side after having a full on drunken meltdown. She had been arrested whilst making me chicken after they worked out it was her that was involved in Grand Theft DVD.

She then kidnapped a girl whilst on Valium, pushed her in manure and abandoned her naked in the countryside. It was quite awful seeing her face and name flash up in the local newspaper about this. I made some bad life choices but I’d rather be lonely thinking back.

She got sent down for this, and I was very glad as maybe it enabled her to decipher from right or wrong.

She moved back to the East of England, and now has children. Yet some things haven’t changed, she is still hungry for  validation, there are folders packed full of selfies in various clothes free poses. Her profile picture was split screened, one of her kids, the other of her scantily dressed figure.

I think Jack’s and Dwayne’s tattoo has been removed.


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