A name I hadn't heard before. I checked it twice.
Lyntette (a combination of Lyn and Annette, perhaps?).
I will never know, now.
We were drunk-
Or at least she was. I think I was still fully aware,
Although isn't being drunk a bit like that?
When you think you're right but you're not?
Still, I remember as if it happened just now.
We didn't do anything-
Like everybody says they don't remember,
But they 'had a good time' and probably 'got laid'
And they can remember what it all would have been like,
Even though they said they can't remember anything.
We talked a bit, like you do-
It wasn't like we were getting onto each other,
Just that 'How are you?' type chat that you would have,
Like sitting around waiting for the subway or in at the dentist,
Talking about the weather and politicians and taxes and all that.
I liked her, I really did, she had a great character-
Yeah, she looked pretty, but I don't really look for that.
I do a bit, judge like that, but so does everybody.
No, she was nice to chat with, over dinner and other's chatting.
It was a sort of sit-down party, you see.
She told me what she thought of me-
It wasn't like what I thought of her.
I really did like her, I latched onto her, this girl called Lynette.
She said I should buy a life, get me a personality.
Not in those words, but that's what they meant.
She apologised later-
I don't need apologies, I could see she meant it then.
First impressions are good like this,
Somebody you've known five minutes who says to you
Just exactly what they think of you.
That's why I liked her-
Not because she was pretty, or because she apologised,
Or because she wanted to sleep with me.
Because she was herself,
Made uninhibited by the alchahol, perhaps.
I've never seen her since-
I know my own ways, I think that's her good luck.
If I see her again, I most likely won't talk to her.
I'll let her be herself- this Lynette-
Because that's why I like her.
