Vanity. Ares

Spartak Moscow, so Gerard was in good spirits
when the match was over. He would always call
me, ‘Greeko’ when he was in a good mood,
unoriginally because I was simply of Greek origin.
Well, I knew it was not original, but homelessness
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
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did not attract me much, therefore the gimmick
had life. So I was Greeko and when there was an
issue of chipping in I was back to being Ares.
But, that night maybe it was the booze; I
had drunk at least a bottle of cheap white wine
and Gerard had drunk the same, or perhaps more.
He then said: “Greeko! what do you think of
Martinq?” I said, “She is nice, nice breasts.” Our
other conversations were mostly what Martinq
deemed vulgar. “Is that all you guys think about?”
Martinq would say. Myself and Martinq had a
strange relationship by that time; she had walked
in on me taking a shower one day and although
her disdain still seemed apparent — the cutting of
eyes and questions of when I was going still
continued, but she seemed to indulge in a sort of
enjoyable villainization of me; I caught her on two
occasions after the shower incident smirking when
talking to Gerard about me. I even remember one
time she said: “...Maybe Ares should become a
pornstar, then he’ll earn some money maybe.” She
spoke with an irony, and I would have thought
about her words at the time, but again I am not a
fan of homelessness. No, I thought it was just a
weird tick Martinq had; a way of endearing to
people. But after the match Gerard did ask me
what I thought of her, and then proceeded to
insinuate that perhaps we could have some sort of
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