FIVE

Next morning, I’m awakened by several annoying phone rings.
I mumble a series of expletives under my breath and blindly grab the cellphone from the nightstand.
“Uhm…Hello?”.
It’s Alice.
I wonder why in the world she’s calling me at nine fucking o’clock in the morning.
“…Hey Al… No, you did it all perfectly. I’ll pick up the car tomorrow…. No, you won’t be meeting her. It didn’t work out…. What? Oh, how should I put this…. Let’s just say she’s virtually non compos mentis…. Any resemblance between any real person…living or dead…is purely coincidental…”.
I sigh heavily as she starts blabbering in my ear.
“….You want more? …Well, the gal doesn’t say much, and when she does…she just find the right words to crush my heart….”.
I narrow my eyes.
“What? …Of course I’m crazy about her!”.

**

Later, that night, I’m the same club with the same people, the same bartender and the same drink. Vodka Martini, very dry, with three olives.
The only new thing in this mess of a night is my outfit: frankly gorgeous.
I lazy put my elbows on the bar counter when a white-collar worker with an idiotic grin planted on his face approaches me.
“Can I buy you a drink?”, he shouts into my ear.
I glance at the curious expression on his face. He’s definitely about to drool and I’m definitely about to vomit.
I raise my glass.
“I already have one”.
His grin doesn’t disappear.
“How about another?”, he exclaims.
He grabs the bartender, who’s cleaning up the counter.
“Yo! She’ll have another. And I’m gonna have what she’s having”.
His nauseous self-confidence – like he’s more than sure to get laid – is starting to get on my nerves.
He moves closer to me and suddenly his tiny willie is brushing slightly against my hips. I shift a little, rolling my eyes.
He looks at me, squarely.
“I, uh… I like your tight body!”, he shouts in the loud music of the club.
I turn to him and grimace.
Absurd.
“…It looks like it would do what I tell it!”.
I frown.
“What?”.
“I said –“.
“No, I heard what you said!”, I retort, staring at him, “And I’ll admit that ‘What?’ was a rather banal, cliché, non-colorful response”.
His grin widens.
“What I really meant to say was: ‘Why don’t you do the world a big, fat, fucking favor… and crawl back into your mother’s womb?’”.
He chuckles, looking not nearly discouraged.
“Some girls like men to say things like that to them”.
“Some girls like men to take a dump on them”, I reply angrily, “I’m not either one of those girls!”.
“I love your dirty little mouth”, he says, and his hand slightly brushes my chin.
I slap it away, chuckling disgusted and getting up.
“This conversation is so over…”.
He throws his hands in the air in confusion. He’s still paradoxically clueless.
“What – Hey, what’s your problem?”.
I turn around and talk directly in his face.
“What’s my problem?! Wow, that is fucking priceless!”.
He stares at me, still smiling, and I arch my eyebrows dumbfounded.
“You cannot be for real. Is there a hidden camera around here?”, I exclaim, taking a look around.
“Now, is your hair natural?”, he asks, raising her hand and touching a strand.
I step back and point my finger to him.
“If you even so much as think of touching me you’re gonna find yourself limping back to your mother’s womb!”.
He shrugs.
“I’ll take my chances!”.
As soon as his hand reaches for my hair, my knee reaches for his willie.
He jerks and double over, howling in pain.
“Dude, are you okay?”, another guy asks, grabbing his shoulder.
The bartender smirks at me.
“Good one!”.
I start walking away, glass in hand.
But another dork steps on my foot and then practically runs over me, and a second later my drink is all over my tank top.
For a second, I’m tempted to suck it from the fabric, but it’s just a temporary mental insanity.
“Fuck!”, I yell, to no one in particular.
Right then, Shane is standing in front of me.
And, obviously, she’s perfect in her leather pants and black shirt.
Her face looks concerned and I immediately throw her an apologetic, nervous glance.
“This isn’t how it looks”, I mutter.
She tilts her head.
“Most things aren’t…”, she replies, simply.
I start walking away and her fingers close on my elbow.
“Carmen…”, she murmurs, “…I’ve been thinking…”.
I stare at her, seriously.
“And?”.
She looks down, embarrassed.
“A-and I feel… I feel…”, she attempts.
I wince, annoyed and disappointed.
“You could have fooled me”, I say, and she looks up, “…I mean, that you feel. That you feel anything”.
She loosens the grip on my arm.
“Okay, now you’re being mean”.
“You know what, Shane? Pardon me for being an anger ball!”, I exclaim, and she narrows her eyes in confusion.
“An ‘anger ball’?”.
“But a lot has happened to me in the last few days… on the emotional rollercoaster which I laughingly call my life!”.
Yeah, I’m letting it all out now. Poor Shane.
“Hell! A lot’s happened to me in the last few minutes!”, I put my hands on my hips, “So you know what? Let’s just call this the new me”.
She looks at me and her eyes are sad.
“There was nothing wrong with the old you…”, she murmurs, quietly, and my defensive buildings fall off.
I sigh, shaking my head.
“Fuck… You can’t treat people like you treat people…and then say something adorable like that…”, I mutter.
She leans forward and speaks into my ear, her hand now closing again on my forearm.
“There’s some things about me that you don’t know”.
I step back and my eyes pop out.
“I don’t know ANYTHING about you!”, I exclaim exasperated, throwing my hands in the air.
Shane just stares sadly at me.