Pick-up lines of a cocain girl

Yesterday I started to chill down, trying to land mentally after yet another week of "work load on acid".

With sunglasses on, having beer at Snaps, Stockholm, nagging with Captain Chaos and his business partner, a dark-haired girl walked up to my chair:
-Where are you from?, she asked.
-Sweden, I replied.
-Really?
-Yup. Why?
-Well, the blond girl over there would like to talk to you.

A bit behind her was a bleach, yellow-blond girl with visably blonder extensions were standing adding too much pink lip-gloss to her face while fumbling with her bag.

Darn.

But what the heck, I am off duty, and do not mind an "inteteresting" conversation.

-Tell her to come sit here, then.

Then later scenes contained of akward hand-shakings with stiff female hands, Captain Chaos trying to get a cig having to pay for it, the dark-haired talking loudly on her phone trying to have someone to pay her rent not to loose her apartment, then showing her son on her mobile saying "his dad claims I'm not a good mother", the blond next to her shaking her leg continously, trying to close her hand bag where a package of condoms was the most notifyable item, smoking contiously, then adding more lip-gloss, correcting her bra and touching her natural D cup, pushing her hand down her crotch, rubbing her bare ancle against my arm while smiling strangely (flirty I guess) and both of them talking, but having flat faces most of the times when we tried to talk with them, waiting a while, then talking again.

Me: What do you work with?
Blond: I do not want to work.
Dark-haired: I am on sick leave. I am over-worked.

When the dark-haired were gone, the blond went to the ladies room. When coming back she was even more inward but a lot happier. She even burst out in a loud laughter while making strange dance moves with her hands, looking at the sky.

Then it struck me:
Why go to Ukraine when I have my future wife right in front of me?

-- Post From My iPhone

Location:Flughafen Frankfurt am Main,Frankfurt,Germany