Joshua Tree II

So that night my buddy Famous and I went to Joshua Tree was pretty interesting. We started up at some bar in the 90’s, which needless to say is, a little out of my comfort zone. Don’t get me wrong, I know that above 86th isn’t exactly Compton and from what I’ve heard, Compton isn’t even like “Compton” anymore. Nonetheless, we started up there where I watched the Yankees shit the bed and drank really sweet Cape Codders...because I paid $20 bucks for three hours of open bar and dammit I’m going to get my fill of Cape Codders. That and I think I would’ve done anything the shot girl there told me to do.
By the time we got to Joshua Tree it was going to 12, or maybe 1, and the bar was half full…certainly not “full of girls waiting to be romanced” as he’d promised. Although, I know what I’m getting myself into every time I go there. Usually I meet some girl who claims to be 19 and go to FIT, when in reality she’s probably 17 and from Jersey.
So we’re in there buying drinks when I notice these two girls across the bar giving us the once over…and then some. I give Famous a nudge and we decide to walk over, and things are looking like they just picked up a little bit. Once over at their table however, things took a serious turn for the worse.
These girls were British. Not Sienna Miller, British either. These two slags were “shine ya shoes Guvna?” British. Teeth at angles that teeth should never be at, British. Drink you under the table and still try to take you home, British. I swear, I’ve had an easier time understanding a Chinaman on Canal Street trying to peddle me a bag of Oranges than I did understanding those two girls.
It’s not important whether I tried to tough it out and talk to them; which I did. Or whether I went home with either of them; which I didn’t. What is important is that the UK needs to import more girls who look like Sienna Miller and less girls who look suspiciously like they’d be content with a salt lick and the occasional Apple.