“Two Smirnoff Ices, please,” he said, giving the V for Victory sign.

Rachel knew this kind of guy. They only drank the same alcopops as their date all evening so that by the time it came to leave, their date would be far more under the influence, and thus far more open to ideas, than they were.

He was still cute, though.

“£6.20, please,” she said.

He flourished a tenner. She opened the till.

NOTES:
This one's clearly a bit of a nymphomaniac, and a shallow, superificial harlot, to boot. Look at her, correctly surmising this guy might be a bit of a cretin, but not letting that dampen her attraction to him. I imagine she's the kind of girl who wouldn't need the alcopops to be open to ideas. Slut. Not based on anyone I know.