I'm ever so sorry dumpling house, but I can't remember your address or name. I'm terrible with names. I'll just call you DH for now, until fate draws us together again one day.
I must admit DH, I was sceptical upon arriving at your peeling, grimy-glassed doors. My scepticism heightened as I tip-toed up your wonky staircase and laid eyes on your dimly lit, scantily-clad room.
My scepticism almost grew to fear as I placed my derrière on a sticky chair, and was offered not a jug of water, but a Tupperware container of water. Actually on second thoughts, it was probably décor. And then my plastic cup leaked all over my lap.
I was seriously considering abandoning my company in order to escape your grimy clasps, when I was greeted with a nostril-tingling scent. This strange sensation spread to my mouth, resulting in involuntary watering.
Forgotten were the unsavoury surroundings and questionable crockery; I was in a trance. DH, I don't know how many of your otherworldly morsels I consumed, but my level of regret is unashamedly low.
I'm sorry I judged you, I really am. I don't know if we'll ever meet again, but then maybe its best that we don't. That way, you will remain forever in my mind as the perfect unpolished gem.
3.5/5 (because first impressions do count)
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