Where would I begin?
The mild spring, Thursday evening was an eventful night spent in the wonderful company of Risha. I picked her up to attend an art exhibition in Wimbledon. As we began the route, Risha mentioned:
"My art teacher called to say we won't like the gallery."
Immediately, I looked at her and said:
"Shall we go and have a drink somewhere closer by instead?"
Risha accepted without hesitation and as we passed by a pub in our neighbourhood, I parked the car and we went straight to the bar. While checking out the place with only a handful of people and not quite the atmosphere we were looking for, we walked out back to the car heading for Zuma.
Finally, settled down at the bar, we did some major catching up, while going through a chewy bowl of fried squid and a couple of cocktails. My dissatisfaction of the squid did not go down too well with the grumpy, busy barman! But he did change it for me.
I was engaged talking to my friend, with my back to the crowd standing all around the bar, when a German gentleman in a suit appeared from behind me. He was besotted by Risha's beauty and began by expressing his admiration for my friend and barely looked my way, except to politely introduce himself. Of course, the name has faded the memory. So bad with names! He then went on to make further introductions to his friends who were surrounding us by now.
I asked the gentlemen if they would entertain my friend, while I go out for a cigarette. Mo, part of the crew, joined me and the conversation swiftly drifted onto the subject of 'writing'. He mentioned the three books he had published in his native language and his passion for the collection of calligraphy. Interesting.
Back on my stool at the bar, the adoration of Risha was intact. The German gentleman asked to see the palm of Risha's hand and as she declined the offer, I brought my left hand forward and asked if my palm could be read. As he seemed oblivious to my existence, I insisted by lifting my hand almost 'in his face' and said: "Please, read mine."
He realized there was no getting away with this so he took my palm in his hand. With an element of surprise, he took a second glance and said:
"Ohhhh! You're all over the place. You're a handful."
"Well," I said. "Guess... That... I am."
They kindly invited us to join them for dinner at their table which was now ready but Risha had to get home, so we left.
Friday, I was meant to visit Kristine at home to see her collection of leather bracelets at 11 am. When I called to inform her of my delay, she said:
"No problem. Come any time, I'll make a small lunch as another friend is joining. But I've to leave by quarter to three."
Not so good, because I managed to turn up two hours later. Don't tell me 'take your time'! Or 'any time' for that matter, coz I will.
After lunch, I took my Girl shopping for an evening dress to wear for the week-end family wedding.
Friday evening arrived fast. The Amanda Wakeley brown, open shoulder and back satin number with the black leather collier came to mind. So, I wore the dress, with a black, strap sandal and when Robby rang the bell with a taxi outside to leave, I asked if she could come up.
She walked into a noisy entrance of my apartment and passed the living room filled with my Girl's girlfriends having a dinner chez moi and said laughingly:
"I knew you wouldn't be ready Haldita! I just knew it."
Oh dear. I do have a reputation, I seem to bring the expression 'fashionably late', a new meaning and everyone in my family is so punctual. Well, we all have our faults.
I did have a point here though and tried to explain myself: "Sorry, I know. But I talked to Dylan and he's waiting for Kerry to arrive before leaving and said he's not too hungry. Troy is on his way to get changed and tell us where to meet. I'm not sure where we should head in this situation!"
"Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" Robby responded.
A text arrived on the mobile and Troy told us to meet him at Cafe Bohemian in Soho. So, we headed that way in a black cab and while we sat at our table with Robby and Troy, Dylan arrived hand in hand with Kerry.
After a light dinner, we sat in two pedal bikes ridden by two guys from the Eastern block, who pedaled us through the busy Soho streets, to the Maddox club. I had been there once before and decided the chichi ambience was not quite to my liking and the place was too packed to move. But this was a special occasion; Rosarita's birthday party at the private room of the club. She and her hubby, Rory were surrounded by good friends to help celebrate. Robby was not so keen on going but we persuaded her to stay a little longer than she had anticipated. When I showed her around the crowded, noisy upstairs room, she made up her mind to leave. So, I joined the rest of the gang in the special underground dolled-up dungeon. As the night proceeded and the level of vodka descended rapidly in the Grey Goose bottle, Troy and I left for the boxed-in, heated smoking area.
Troy told me the story of his recent, 'gone wrong', swinging experience. He went on to say:
"I was at some friends' for a drink last week. The night went into the early hours of the morning when I decided to leave. As I was going, this couple offered to share a taxi with me, and although I felt a little uncomfortable, I agreed. On the way, the guy asked if I'd go back to their place for a nightcap so I agreed again. But boy, when we got there, the wife disappeared into a room and re-appreared with a tiny dress on, sat opposite me and bared her all in front of my wide-open eyes! It was tempting, but I tried to look away. Then the boyfriend appeared in a robe from another door and they became more suggestive with their action and a little too touchy for my liking."
"Oh no! Think I've met them before at a party... From afar." I said. "So what happened?"
"So nothing happened," Troy answered. "I ran out of there as fast as I could. I tell you the woman was sexy and she was coming onto me but thinking of having a sharp object entering my rear side was definitely not my idea of having fun!"
We laughed and decided to get back in for some dancing.
However... As I was following Troy to the way out of the smoking area, a very, but I mean very hot-looking guy stared into my eyes, with his sharp, blue-eyes and said:
"Hi." And grabbed me towards him for a super friendly hug!
Listen... Who was I to say 'don't'. So, he held me against his strong chest and as we kissed on the cheeks, he asked if we could hold each other for a second more. Or two. Or three. I laughed, being held tightly in his strong arms and asked:
"Now... Have you taken ecstasy?"
"What?" He answered, "No. Haven't done that in years."
I looked around to check what had happened to Troy when I realised my friend must have seen me entangled in a passionate embrace and left me to it.
"I'm Bjorn by the way. You?" He asked.
"Haldita," I answered flirtatiously.
After a long hold, Bjorn took my hand in his and said: "Let's go back to my table."
And I followed without a single word of complaint!
At his table, he introduced a couple and offered me a drink. I barely had a sip when he took my hand again and this time, twirled me skilfully around the dance floor. We danced as passionately as two tango dancers, our bodies entwined, gazing at each other without uttering a word. The music had taken over and the heat was rising between us faster than an eruption of a volcano. As we moved, I could feel the muscles in his strong legs touching mine, as though flesh did not exist. The sensation of two hearts pumping fast, through our chests pressed against one another was creating a quake which blew me off my feet. In the moment of the time, I grasped his neck with one hand, while the fingers of my left hand clutched strongly onto his arm. As our heads turned with the flow of the dance, our lips touched and we kissed passionately, oblivious to the surround.
Time flew by. I was feeling hot. We drifted apart for a gasp of air and in the whirlwind of all the emotions running through our minds and body, I said:
"I've to go join my friends. If I don't see you again... Ciao."
And I disappeared behind the black, swinging doors without looking back.
The next day, I messaged Massimo to inform him of my 'change of heart' on the club:
'Actually, I had a great time at Maddox! Didn't leave till 5 am'.
Massimo answered:
'Good girl. My friend Tony has a private room there do you know him?'
I wrote:
'Tony? No. The party was in a private room.'
Massimo: 'That's the room! Tony.'
Me: 'Didn't meet Tony. But I did meet Bjorn. Now... Do you know Bjorn? Haha'
Massimo: 'Never heard.'
Me: 'Guess you win some, you lose some.'
What would life be without these moments of 'pure ecstasy'?
The week-end hasn't even begun... The family wedding to follow.
The mild spring, Thursday evening was an eventful night spent in the wonderful company of Risha. I picked her up to attend an art exhibition in Wimbledon. As we began the route, Risha mentioned:
"My art teacher called to say we won't like the gallery."
Immediately, I looked at her and said:
"Shall we go and have a drink somewhere closer by instead?"
Risha accepted without hesitation and as we passed by a pub in our neighbourhood, I parked the car and we went straight to the bar. While checking out the place with only a handful of people and not quite the atmosphere we were looking for, we walked out back to the car heading for Zuma.
Finally, settled down at the bar, we did some major catching up, while going through a chewy bowl of fried squid and a couple of cocktails. My dissatisfaction of the squid did not go down too well with the grumpy, busy barman! But he did change it for me.
I was engaged talking to my friend, with my back to the crowd standing all around the bar, when a German gentleman in a suit appeared from behind me. He was besotted by Risha's beauty and began by expressing his admiration for my friend and barely looked my way, except to politely introduce himself. Of course, the name has faded the memory. So bad with names! He then went on to make further introductions to his friends who were surrounding us by now.
I asked the gentlemen if they would entertain my friend, while I go out for a cigarette. Mo, part of the crew, joined me and the conversation swiftly drifted onto the subject of 'writing'. He mentioned the three books he had published in his native language and his passion for the collection of calligraphy. Interesting.
Back on my stool at the bar, the adoration of Risha was intact. The German gentleman asked to see the palm of Risha's hand and as she declined the offer, I brought my left hand forward and asked if my palm could be read. As he seemed oblivious to my existence, I insisted by lifting my hand almost 'in his face' and said: "Please, read mine."
He realized there was no getting away with this so he took my palm in his hand. With an element of surprise, he took a second glance and said:
"Ohhhh! You're all over the place. You're a handful."
"Well," I said. "Guess... That... I am."
They kindly invited us to join them for dinner at their table which was now ready but Risha had to get home, so we left.
Friday, I was meant to visit Kristine at home to see her collection of leather bracelets at 11 am. When I called to inform her of my delay, she said:
"No problem. Come any time, I'll make a small lunch as another friend is joining. But I've to leave by quarter to three."
Not so good, because I managed to turn up two hours later. Don't tell me 'take your time'! Or 'any time' for that matter, coz I will.
After lunch, I took my Girl shopping for an evening dress to wear for the week-end family wedding.
Friday evening arrived fast. The Amanda Wakeley brown, open shoulder and back satin number with the black leather collier came to mind. So, I wore the dress, with a black, strap sandal and when Robby rang the bell with a taxi outside to leave, I asked if she could come up.
She walked into a noisy entrance of my apartment and passed the living room filled with my Girl's girlfriends having a dinner chez moi and said laughingly:
"I knew you wouldn't be ready Haldita! I just knew it."
Oh dear. I do have a reputation, I seem to bring the expression 'fashionably late', a new meaning and everyone in my family is so punctual. Well, we all have our faults.
I did have a point here though and tried to explain myself: "Sorry, I know. But I talked to Dylan and he's waiting for Kerry to arrive before leaving and said he's not too hungry. Troy is on his way to get changed and tell us where to meet. I'm not sure where we should head in this situation!"
"Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" Robby responded.
A text arrived on the mobile and Troy told us to meet him at Cafe Bohemian in Soho. So, we headed that way in a black cab and while we sat at our table with Robby and Troy, Dylan arrived hand in hand with Kerry.
After a light dinner, we sat in two pedal bikes ridden by two guys from the Eastern block, who pedaled us through the busy Soho streets, to the Maddox club. I had been there once before and decided the chichi ambience was not quite to my liking and the place was too packed to move. But this was a special occasion; Rosarita's birthday party at the private room of the club. She and her hubby, Rory were surrounded by good friends to help celebrate. Robby was not so keen on going but we persuaded her to stay a little longer than she had anticipated. When I showed her around the crowded, noisy upstairs room, she made up her mind to leave. So, I joined the rest of the gang in the special underground dolled-up dungeon. As the night proceeded and the level of vodka descended rapidly in the Grey Goose bottle, Troy and I left for the boxed-in, heated smoking area.
Troy told me the story of his recent, 'gone wrong', swinging experience. He went on to say:
"I was at some friends' for a drink last week. The night went into the early hours of the morning when I decided to leave. As I was going, this couple offered to share a taxi with me, and although I felt a little uncomfortable, I agreed. On the way, the guy asked if I'd go back to their place for a nightcap so I agreed again. But boy, when we got there, the wife disappeared into a room and re-appreared with a tiny dress on, sat opposite me and bared her all in front of my wide-open eyes! It was tempting, but I tried to look away. Then the boyfriend appeared in a robe from another door and they became more suggestive with their action and a little too touchy for my liking."
"Oh no! Think I've met them before at a party... From afar." I said. "So what happened?"
"So nothing happened," Troy answered. "I ran out of there as fast as I could. I tell you the woman was sexy and she was coming onto me but thinking of having a sharp object entering my rear side was definitely not my idea of having fun!"
We laughed and decided to get back in for some dancing.
However... As I was following Troy to the way out of the smoking area, a very, but I mean very hot-looking guy stared into my eyes, with his sharp, blue-eyes and said:
"Hi." And grabbed me towards him for a super friendly hug!
Listen... Who was I to say 'don't'. So, he held me against his strong chest and as we kissed on the cheeks, he asked if we could hold each other for a second more. Or two. Or three. I laughed, being held tightly in his strong arms and asked:
"Now... Have you taken ecstasy?"
"What?" He answered, "No. Haven't done that in years."
I looked around to check what had happened to Troy when I realised my friend must have seen me entangled in a passionate embrace and left me to it.
"I'm Bjorn by the way. You?" He asked.
"Haldita," I answered flirtatiously.
After a long hold, Bjorn took my hand in his and said: "Let's go back to my table."
And I followed without a single word of complaint!
At his table, he introduced a couple and offered me a drink. I barely had a sip when he took my hand again and this time, twirled me skilfully around the dance floor. We danced as passionately as two tango dancers, our bodies entwined, gazing at each other without uttering a word. The music had taken over and the heat was rising between us faster than an eruption of a volcano. As we moved, I could feel the muscles in his strong legs touching mine, as though flesh did not exist. The sensation of two hearts pumping fast, through our chests pressed against one another was creating a quake which blew me off my feet. In the moment of the time, I grasped his neck with one hand, while the fingers of my left hand clutched strongly onto his arm. As our heads turned with the flow of the dance, our lips touched and we kissed passionately, oblivious to the surround.
Time flew by. I was feeling hot. We drifted apart for a gasp of air and in the whirlwind of all the emotions running through our minds and body, I said:
"I've to go join my friends. If I don't see you again... Ciao."
And I disappeared behind the black, swinging doors without looking back.
The next day, I messaged Massimo to inform him of my 'change of heart' on the club:
'Actually, I had a great time at Maddox! Didn't leave till 5 am'.
Massimo answered:
'Good girl. My friend Tony has a private room there do you know him?'
I wrote:
'Tony? No. The party was in a private room.'
Massimo: 'That's the room! Tony.'
Me: 'Didn't meet Tony. But I did meet Bjorn. Now... Do you know Bjorn? Haha'
Massimo: 'Never heard.'
Me: 'Guess you win some, you lose some.'
What would life be without these moments of 'pure ecstasy'?
The week-end hasn't even begun... The family wedding to follow.
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