I knew one once.
Striking looking girl, tall, you know.
Father was a banker.
Really?
Don't remember the name of the bank.
Never mind.
I must have been keen on her
because I took her
to see India!
India?
At the Oval!
Fine match. A marvelous finish.
Now, Surrey had to get 33 in half an hour,
and she went off to powder her...
Her hands or something.
Women... never came back.
What a shame.
The strange thing was that throughout the morning,
she kept referring to the Indians as "n*****s".
No, no, I said.
n*****s are the West Indians,
these people are Wogs!
No, no, she said,
all cricketers are n*****s.
They do get awfully confused.
They're not thinkers. I see it with Sybil every day.
I wish I could remember her name,
she's still got my wallet.
