I'd been hearing about a woman called Amy who wouldn't let any of my friends anywhere near her. I was told all kinds of things about her – how self important she was, how much she talked about herself, how much she thought of herself. They set her up as unconquerable.
That suited me. I wasn't going to try my luck. In that group of friends, I was the physically imposing one they hid behind when a night's drinking turned argumentative. I'm tall, hairy and while not especially muscular or well built, people don't want to make me angry. I'm not a looker, either.
I came back to my home town after working away for a while and met Amy, and her housemate Paul, on my first night back in the pub. Amy was a blonde and blue eyed swimmer from Up North. She was average height, entirely flat chested, slightly clumsy and she laughed easily. I asked her lots of questions, she answered them, we had a bit of a giggle. She mentioned her boyfriend several times, which solved at least one mystery.