Bachelorette Diaries, Wk39; 2012


10:45 a.m.,
Saturday,
I woke up feeling dizzy and out of this planet. If Mars can support human life I guess that’s where I definitely was the whole night.
Yesterday, the Bachelorette Club had a panoptic date night at our usual joint. We arrived at Galileo’s shortly after six in the evening. All of us, each driven by her date (never mind. It’s us who tossed the keys to the guys as agreed earlier on and said ‘Honey, would you drive, pliz?’ not because the guys had insisted because of the paranoia that we are sloppy drivers).
The first two hours were get-to-know each other over drinks. By the time we decided to order, four bottles of Pinot Chardonnay, two Baileys and Amarula and one of Viceroy had been downed. Then the eight of us attacked the four-course meal we ordered with viciousness that kept slurring of speech and the effect of the alcohol at a manageable level.
Gwen was the most beaten up. Her face was the most flushed by the time the meal was over, arguing something with her man in undertones.
The girls had brought in their speed-date guys the agency had hooked them with. According to the grapevine, they’d had three dates with them when I was away, so this was the fourth. They ought to take it slow.
Gwen’s guy is an archeologist from the United States International University (USIU). Eve’s is a blue chip company director in his early forties and Wisty’s is a political analyst, the Romeo of the trio. Mine, you know. It’s the military guy. He came back on Tuesday after bombing several Al Shabaab positions in Somalia. That’s what he told me.


It had been Gwendolyn’s idea to have dinner date together to introduce (and appraise) the guys. It was a novel idea, pun intended.
The dim light made everybody look eerily beautiful, and nondescript. I looked at the archeologist, Patrick. His sharp inquisitive features were smoothed by the kind, guttering light. On his right was his woman. The next was Ferdinand, the Romeo, and Wisty in that order. Major Sang (I know it sounds too formal, but that’s what I call him in my mind/heart, but I told the girls, and tell everybody else, he’s called William. The man on my right is the blue chip company director, Eve’s guy. He kept leaning forward and whispering things in my ear. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said. Eve must hear this. “Head of Gevin Technologies, top media girl. I admire you.”
“Yes,” I said. “I believe in myself.”
When William was talking to Wisty, Ferdinand to Gwen and Patrick to Eve, some kind of date swapping, I’d automatically been left to painstakingly listen to him. His name’s Nick (Nicholas Brody? Bondo? Something like that). “We can be good friends. Business-wise I mean. I buy off companies.”
“That’s awesome,” I said. I slid a forkful of food into my mouth. “But my company is not for sale.”
“It depends with how much I’ll be offering.”
Before I could tell him to quote his price, just for the sake of it, Gwen hijacked the moment to say something. Perhaps make a speech. So I cleared my throat and looked straight ahead.
“I propose a toast,” she said, her wineglass in hand. “To love.”
“To love,” everybody said, Nick laughing like a peal of a cracked bell, lifting our glasses.
Willy reached for my hand on the table as my glass clinked with his. Wisty leaned and planted a smacking kiss on the mouth of her new boyfriend who seemed as startled as Wisty was flushed.

I blinked and tried not to stare or be tempted to peck Willy. I was the odd one out as Eve and Gwen followed suit as though Wisty was the cue for PDA. I cleared my throat to tell them to get a room.
My mind went to that day I drank too much wine and jumped into bed with Major Sang. Why not join the club. After all if you can’t beat them, join them. So I gave William a peck on the cheek.
And that was the end for that phase of the night. The men drove us to the hotel where we had booked for the night out and split at the parking lot.
All I can think of is Willy and I in the hotel room alone, his hand on my black cocktail dress, pushing its straps off my shoulders, my breasts swelling under his hands, my eyes closing and our lips locking in perfect fit, then waking up today feeling as though I had taken a trip to Mars.

Copyright ©Elove, 2013.

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