UFO out takes

Wandered into the Croissanterie Cafe near Stephen's Green in Dublin. My first time there in ages. A dark haired girl with plenty of curves at a far table caught my eye. I sat near her and chanced a second look.
"Hi James," she said.
Ah yes, that old gag.
I sit down for an innocent ogle.
And she knows me.
It took me a few more seconds to figure out who she was.
Little Karolina from Poland.
I hadn't seen her in a while. She'd changed. Her lustrous dark hair was longer and if possible more lustrous. Certain interesting parts of her physiognomy had become even more interesting.
These subtle but oddly appealing changes were why I hadn't recognised her to begin with.
Now I joined her for a coffee.
Within moments, I'd moved beyond standard old friends small talk to "I saw UFO's last week."
Karolina didn't bat a beautiful eyelid.
Instead she put her head in her hands and groaned.
"James," she said. "You know what my professional opinion would be if you came to me with that statement?"
Karolina studies psychology.
I asked what her professional opinion would be.
"Schizophrenia," she said softly.