He knew he wasnt her type. To be truthful he didnt care. He had to talk to her. Maybe she had a thing for thugs. Or maybe a slight weakness for white boys. It was worth a try.
"Hello pretty lady" he said. She smiled.
"Thank you" she replied.
"So what brought you here, haven't seen you before" he said.
"Because believe me, I would've definitely remembered " he said as he looked her up and down.
"Its my birthday and my girls wanted to get me out the house" she said.
"Well Happy Birthday , he paused waiting for her name.
"Oh Im sorry my name is Dascha" she said.
"And you are?" she asked.
"Michael or you can call me Yelawolf" he said.
"Hmm, I like Michael better" she responded.
"So can I get a dance Ms Dascha or is your man here also" he said.
It wouldn't matter anyway he thought. She was his. And all he had to do is make 1 call and competition would be cancelled and Dascha would be free.
Yelawolf was his street name. He was a druglord and liked "The Life". The life being ...