I had just arrived in this shitty town and was helping my dads with the boxes when I bumped into some tanned blonde who was scurrying down the road. When I say bumped; I mean literally bumped! She looked up, about to shout god knows what at me, and then did a double take when she saw my attire. I am so used to all those negative little shits from my old town that I was getting ready to give it back as good as I was going to get, but she just smiled. It was freaky. Girls like that don't usually smile at me when they see my clothes. Girls like that usually call me a "fanny licking, muff munching, lezza freak". I refuse to comment either way. They can think what the fuck they like! Anyway back to the point at hand. This blonde looked me straight in the eye, smiled and introduced herself...

"Naomi" she states.

"Franky" I stumble back in my socially inept way!

So this Naomi girl, looking slightly concerned by my stuttering conduct grabbed the box off me and began to walk it towards my new house. I run back to the van, grab another box, and chase her across the road hoping she doesn't get freaked by dad and dad. Catching up I began to question her. I wanted to know about this girl who is suddenly being all sweet and light. Turns out she thinks the same as all those losers back in Oxford. However, instead of hating me because she thinks I'm gay she seems to think I am great. I was beginning to worry that she may have some weird-ass crush on me until she repeatedly mentioned "Emily" and "Goa" and complained about flights being delayed. From the several mentions of this 'Emily' girl I discern that they are in fact an item; and four months in 'Goa' apparently explains the smoking hot tan on this girl.

Naomi left about an hour later after helping with the rest of the boxes and chatting to my dads over a glass of water – the kettle was buried in a box somewhere in the kitchen, but I managed to dig out some glasses. Anyway she hurried off after remembering that she was actually supposed to be in a rush to go and see her friend "Cook" who is in intensive care. She said she would now have to blag her way in as she was pretty sure she would miss visiting hours; but supposedly the poor guy has no family that will visit him, and being the next closest thing he has to family she felt a duty to go still. Before leaving she arranged to show me the nightlife. So here I am stood outside some nightclub down a dingy back alley, the blonde one side of me and a little red head the other; both absolutely wasted on Tequila and trying hard not to fuck right here in the streets by the look of it. Every so often they seem to remember my presence and throw compliments my way. This is a whole new experience!

I think I might quite like living in Bristol after all.