Lessons

 

In an odd optimistic way, Friday was an edifying evening for her.

She had the usual packed itinerary lined up for the night – karaoke, fashion show, a friend’s birthday at some club. And she just got out of the shower, feeling fresh and energized, her body scented of green tea shower foam.

That was when her phone rang. It was him. The sick-I-don’t-want-to-see-people-cause-I’m-grouchy him. He’s been ill for three days, and in all those three days he resisted her assistance, her company and her compassion. She missed him, but she understood all the same. She sent porridge once. After that she decided best to let it be.  She called occasionally; trying to sound as casually as she could outside, even though she was staggering inside.

She wondered if subconsciously she was looking for an opportunity to play the silly lil worried girlfriend. But girlfriend was far from what she was trying to be. She really was concerned. She just wanted to be near.

So when he finally reached out that night, she relented. He was bored of the four walls of his room. Needed some fresh air, he said, let’s do dinner. Okay, dinner it is. She offered to drive. Be there in an hour, she said.

She hung up and dialed some numbers. Her plans? Cancelled!

When dinner was done, she was back in his room – pretending she knew what she was doing as she massaged him. Does that feel good? More pressure?  No?

She knew the friction from the skin of her palm against the texture of his back marks the inevitable beginning of yet another ardent encounter.

She had a feeling something startling was bound to happen. That was just how her luck usually pans out. But he was sweet. And tender. And promising. Like he was that first night they kissed.

Before she knew it their clothes were off. He felt so good. She didn’t want to let go.

This is it. The turning point of their friendship to godknowswhat. There’d be consequences. But she didn’t care. And she didn’t want to think about it. Let’s just seize the fucking moment.

Literally.

Then she heard someone hovering. Her reflex told her to run to the bathroom.
And thank heavens she did. Because his mom, visiting, walked in. (say OMFG)

Garments were strewn all over the floor. Messy bed, and used condoms by the side post. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what was happening in there.

She spent the next three days cringing in embarrassment and reiterating her mortification to laughing friends in an infected coarse voice that made her sound like a transsexual.

Two lessons learned over the long Independence Day weekend.
Never have sex with a sick man.
Lock the fucking door.