Blimey Miley, what a stroppy little madam! This took me back to my younger days on wild goose chases and hanging around similar to some of the episode's in Nik's book.
After reading some recent reports saying Miley is back to her best, tanned, fit and gives a PSE, I decided to throw caution to the wind this afternoon. I called and booked for 4:30 and was told I would receive a text with the address. When this didn't arrive by 3:40, I texted again and received no reply. As it's not far from me, I headed for Earls Court and called on arrival. No reply. I hung around for a while and texted a few more times. No joy. A final text from me said I would head back home if I didn't hear within ten minutes. On my way back home I then received a text saying "sorry, are you still there?" I rearranged the booking and she said to come at 5:20. A couple of confusing phone calls later and walking the wrong way up Cromwell Road I managed to get outside her place and asked for her flat number. Then my battery died. I swapped my punting SIM into my normal mobile and she gave me the flat number. I had been severely pissed about and know I should have known better but I hadn't had a shit adventure like this in years and as I had been slightly unwell for a few days, was glad to be out.
Well she certainly can cop an attitude can't she. Trying to be friendly and making light of what had happened I was in her warm, clean little flat and she was anything but smiley
and asked me straight away for £80. I wasn't having that. She was obviously out for a row and spoke to me as if I were a complete idiot. I really was diplomatic, quietly spoken and friendly and told her I'd heard she was very good and did a PSE: "I have never done porn", she stropped, digging her heels in and trying to make an issue of it. Things went on in this vein despite my attempts to turn things round. She may well speak English but she was making every attempt to misunderstand me. I diplomatically tried to stop her mid-flow and asked her jokingly if she knew what disingenuous meant: "No, but you explain and I will try." "That's what you're doing to me now, I said with a smile. I did try not to laugh as I realised that despite her coming from outside the UK, her tone and body posture were the spit of Vicky Pollard
"Do you want to stay or not?", she demanded, "otherwise you are wasting my time." I gently reminded her that I had booked for 4:30 and she had not replied to my texts and calls. She pointed at her watch: "Ha, it is 5:30." I tried to explain gently again and pointed out that she had already texted to apologise, as I walked toward the door. She asked me if I wanted to stay again. I told her no and said I would be reporting on this. She stood by the door and then said it must have been a friend who had taken the booking and asked me if I wanted to stay again. I said no and that I was sorry as I had been looking forward to meeting her. She opened the door and said sorry for wasting my time.
I suspect that if you catch her on a good day (as some obviously have) she can be minxy and good fun, but if you do what I foolishly did today and catch her in tantrum mode I doubt it would go well.
I'm actually smiling as I write this as her little strop a la vicky pollard amused. I don't live far away and hadn't done that kind of thing for ages. I knew things had been shit and as I got near Earls Court station I saw some phone box cards and rang one, already knowing the day was a disaster. To cut a long story short, after ringing a card with a blond on it, I end up in a basement flat with two ladies from Africa. They were friendly but I walked.
I've just remnded myself why I punt at HOD, LMP and occasionally with a very horny regular from Poland