Gina

Listen to me. I didn't do anything. I asked for a kiss, you said "yes" in that annoying, squeaky, weird little voice of yours. I asked for your number, your details, I liked you, I know I was higher than kites fly but I liked you. I took a photo of you for the contact and then I handed you my phone that was nothing but a blur to me and you pretended to put your number in. You pressed delete contact and handed it back and smiled that awful, mean, vicious grin. Let me remind you, it was you who harrassed my straight friend, made her cry and want to leave. She deserves to feel safe in a gay club, everyone does. It was you who deleted my number that night and then the next time I walk in, you avoid me like the plague. I don't rise to you because I care so much but you don't deserve my anger, you are nothing. You whisper to your friends and stare while I'm just trying to pee and have a good night with my friends. You dart the other way in the crowd. You dance so badly I can't help but laugh. You haunt the photos from that night, I can't look anymore. You sour the whole memory. I am done talking about you. I hope I never see you again. That is my safe space, my gay club. Go back to fucking Scotland.