Le Snoopy

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What can I say about Isabelle that has not already been said? I am sure that every man who has crossed her path has written poetry or prose about her in angst or praise or both. She was an enigma wrapped in expensive clothes and Chanel No 5. She wasn't the most beautiful girl in the world although she certainly was very attractive and nor was she the most intelligent, although she could hold her own in most conversations. So if it wasn't beauty or brains that had me trailing in her wake, then what was it? Was it her wonderful brown doe eyes that reflected her smoky moods? Or her seductive French accent that titillated my eardrums? Maybe it was her high heels and pencil skirt that revealed her curves from head to toe or the way she barked non at me every time I asked her if she'd care to join me for a coffee or glass of wine. Of course all of these things contributed to le crush I had on my best friend Miley's P.A. But none of them were the key to my unrequited love.
Late one evening in a drunken moment of candour Isabelle had revealed to Miley that she had a tattoo in an intimate spot. Three nights later Miley had in a drunken moment of candour passed this intimate detail on to me revealing that it was a tattoo of Snoopy the Dog.
The information nearly blew my mind. This wonderful woman had a secret, sexy tattoo. I made it my mission to see le Snoopy in the flesh.
It was a mission that was destined to fail but not because I never got to see Isabelle naked. The chase was long and arduous, but I never gave up, spurred on as I was by the thought of seeing Charlie Brown's dog somewhere immortalised on her tanned skin. Miley told me not to give up, told me Isabelle often spoke about me and seemed to be happy when told I was dropping by. 
But it was becoming a joke, every time I saw her I’d ask her for a coffee, every time she’d smile that sweet smile and bark non back. But each time she barked non, her eyes told me she meant peut-être. Then today out of the blue she said oui, oui to coffee, oui to a drink, oui to coming back to my place and later that evening she whispered oh la la as I caressed her body searching for my cartoon canine friend.
But there was no dog, I found a rose and a word in Sanskrit but no Snoopy.

Almost as soon as the sex was over I nipped to the toilet with my phone in my hand.
‘Miley, where the fuck is snoopy?’ I horse whispered down the phone.
‘What? Are you in a toilet?’
‘Where's Snoopy, I'm in bed with Isabelle and I can't find Snoopy!’
‘Snoopy, is that a euphemism?'
‘The tattoo.’
I listened to Miley's brain whirr, ‘oh I made that up’ she said giggling.
I flushed the toilet and padded back to bed, more than just a little bit disappointed.