”It took the strip club two weeks to realize that I was only sixteen at the time. I was so bloody good at it that they almost didn’t fire me. You want to end up somewhere more strange than Amsterdam? We’d have to end up in Los Angeles, or Iceland, or Zimbabwe.”
She scoffed, rolling her eyes.
”Impress guys? As if your little stories aren’t to impress girls. ‘Oh, I got hit by a bus, fucked a lot of girls, did drugs. And you’re fit as fuck!’ I’m almost impressed by all that.”
"Fuckin' christ, sixteen? Get anybody arrested for that shit? Iceland'd be fun. LA's a bit far, probably sober up before the time we got there, 'less we kept drinkin' on the plane, I guess. Definitely thinkin' Iceland's our best bet if we want to beat Amsterdam,"
He laughs.
"I wouldn't say it wasn't to impress you. How else was I supposed to stand out when you get you to notice me if there's all these guys who're tryin' to get your attention, t oo. I was hit by a bus, though. I'll ring her if you'd like. It fucked her up a lot. She watched it happen,"








