Quality over quantity. Let these words wash over you, embrace them, and use them as you wish for I have just given you the key to victory in the ever-growing battle of the sexes. Just today I was told, "You have to slay a few dragons to get to the princess". Lies. Sanchez Alfonso will have none of this dragons talk. Sanchez has reached the princess on many occasions without encountering any Hungarian Horntails or Norwegian Ridgebacks. Here is one such occasion...
It was a cold winter night when Sanchez sent out the call, "Get your backside, to Fridays Riverside!" Within seconds, thousands of women had signalled their interest in attending, but Sanchez wasn't after something easy. Sanchez was keen for a chase, a chance to spread his wings, to test himself out, seal the deal and most of all, rub it in his friends' faces.
As Sanchez ascended the Fridays staircase, much like a familiar mythical 'Son of God' did 3 days after his death, hordes of scantily-clad women were congregating at the bar, ready to shout Sanchez a wet pussy. Sanchez strode passed them without acknowledging them. He sat at a table next to his mates and when they gave him a look of utter incredulity and disbelief, he said to them,
"Three words, guys. Quality over quantity!" One friend actually spat his drink out. Thankfully it landed on a girls white dress and not Sanchez. Luck favours the sexy.
After explaining to his friends that he was not here for just any ordinary girl, he stated perusing the crowd for the lucky girl he would chase. As he looked, he saw more and more drgaons, maybe his friend was right. Maybe he would have to swallow his pride and slay a dragon. A sickly feeling filled his stomach as he came to the realisation that this was the only way forward. He rose from his chair, ashamed at the course of action he was about to take. He approached the closest dragon, her skimpy dress hanging off her in all the wrong places. He was not nearly drunk enough for this, but there was no turning back. Just as he was about to introduce himself, out of the the corner of his eye, he caught of glimpse of something breathtaking. Someone beautiful and perfect in every way.
Was it a princess? No. This is not some hack, run-of-the-mill blog where fairytales come true. This is where Sanchez keeps it real. The breathtaking, mesmerising sight that Sanchez saw was actually himself. He had just walked in front of a mirror. As he stood there looking at his chiselled features and Mexican tan, he realised he was above this. He was a better person than these dragons because he was better looking. Good looking people do not talk to dragons, it's just science. Look it up!
The dragon still stood there, waiting, a hopeful look on her face. Sanchez smiled at her, his mind ticking over, he knew what he had to do. He beckoned her over to him. She could barely hide her excitement, the dragon skipper drunkinly across to him. Sanchez started the conversation, "Heyyy, have you met Johno?" and he motioned to his mate next to him who sat there stunned. "He really likes you!" With his work done, Sanchez wandered off to get himself a drink.
As he stood at the bar, giving himself a mental pat on the back, he looked to his right and saw his princess. He got his drink, and went to speak to her, "Hi, I bought you a drink" he said as he handed the drink to her. "Oh thanks" she replied, taking a sip. Game, set, match. Fridays dancefloor, car backseat, hospital ER. Apparently a dozen roofies is too many. The poor princess eventually woke from her slumber, or what the doctors called it, her coma.
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