Wine, Dine and some more Wine

Bang, Bang, Bang “TeTe let me in!” I jump almost spilling my wine all over my pajamas.

“Come on TeTe, I can smell popcorn,” she bangs more on the door. I sigh, sit down my glass and pull the blanket off me.

“Yeah, yeah I hear ya Flea, hold your horses” I holler through the door. I thought she had a date tonight I mumble to myself as I make it over to the door. I open it and my best friend wipes in like a tornado. She’s stomping, that’s not a good sign.

“Hey, I thought you had that date with your dream guy from the coffee shop” I ask as I turn around and when I finally see the state of her “what the hell happened to you?”

On a normal day, she is knockout with her long blonde and tan skin that looks like she just got out of the sun. It’s probably from all those years playing soccer. She’s has long legs and this perfect skin that never looks like she never picked at a pimple on her face like the rest of mere-mortals. Looking at her you think she would be this little rich-bitch snob who thinks she walks on water, and when you know who her family is, she has every right to think that way, but she’s the complete opposite of all of that. She’s normally one of the most understanding and is always cool as cucumber, the complete opposite of me. I am the loud, dramatic one, with every problem meaning it is the end of the world. I even have a bugout bag ready to go for the real world ending.

Looking at Felicia aka Flea aka my best friend now, you would never guess that. Her checks are red with anger, her hair is coming out of her braid and streaming around her head and she’s got red wine all over her white shirt. She storms over and grabs my wine of the table and has pretty much chugged it faster than a man who crossed the desert would. This isn’t one of those small glasses either, this is one of those big-half a bottle fits in it glasses.

“Oh, I had my date alright with Mr. I’m so cute, with my glasses and wavy hair” she starts to sit down and then she bounces back up and starts pacing. And yea she’s got her hands going, this is going to be good.

I got another glass down, poured the rest of the wine into her glass and got another bottle out for me, I think I’m going to need it.

“Okay so you know how excited I was for this date right?” she doesn’t even give me a chance the respond, “so excited. I’ve been making googly eyes at this guy for months. He’s been smiling and winking back at me, has bought me my coffee on multiple occassions. I walked 3 blocks out of my way to go to that dumb coffee shop with that horrible cold brew coffee that taste like donkey shit, to make googly eyes at this guy, right?”

“You know what donkey shit taste like?” she just gives me the finger as she walks over to grab her drink and she continues.

“He finally talked to me this week, and now that I think on it, it should have been a red flag, but you know I was just so excited, you know how long it’s been for me.”

“Umm unfortunately I do.”

“264 days, and 10 hours” she just keeps on right over me. “Anyways, he said to me, that he got tired of waiting for me to make the move, so he figured he should do it, because there’s only so many chances to speak to an angel”

I burst out laughing, “you fell for that?”.

“Yeah, at this point I think my lady Elvis was thinking more than my actual head” she takes a drink, as I continue laughing.

“So we agree on this date, where to meet, I made plans to get things, waxed, and I wore sexy underwear. I show up at the restaurant we agreed on, and he wasn’t there yet, so I go sit down. First, he’s 15 minutes late. Then he finally gets there and doesn’t apologize or anything, just says ‘oh your punctual’. Who says that?”

I know it’s a rhetorical question, and as she walks to me with her wine glass, I just fill it up and let her continue on.

“So, we start talking, and by we, I mean him, and he starts, throwing his hands around like he’s one of those wavy arm dudes in front of used car shops. He’s just talking like normal and throwing them all around”. As she’s telling me this, she started flapling around exactly like one of the air people, but she has a little bit more skill with it, because she doesn’t spill her wine.

“Your pretty good at that, did you practice in a mirror?” I ask her. Hiding my smile behind my glass, because I only get so often to enjoy this side of her.

“I learned from watching you” she snipes back and continues on, “so all through the date, he keeps getting up and disappearing, for like 5-10 minutes at a time. I’m thinking maybe he’s got a nerves stomach. But the more time he comes back the more I realize, I really want to punch this guy in the face. He’s talking about himself, and you know what, he laughed like a hyena, and just as loud too. I think I’ve said more to the waiter than I have to him, because he didn’t let me get a word in. My lady Elvis is pretty much realizing at this point that nothing is going to happen with this guy, because I’m betting, he’s a two-pump chump the way he won’t sit still. After like an hour of this, he left the table and I was finally like give me the check, so I can get the hell out of here. I couldn’t sit there with the waving hyena another minute.” She takes a deep breath and I know whatever is really bothering her is coming next, and I just can’t wait.

“After I paid, I figured I’d go to the bathroom before I get a cab. On my way back through, I see Mr. Hyena sitting at another table, holding another women’s hand.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“What did you do? You did something right?”

“Well duh. So, I sashay my way over there, really putting my hips into it because I’m about to make a scene, so I got to look good if making a scene.” As she tells me this, she demonstrates her walk, and I just start laughing.

“Wait, it gets better. I make it to the table and was like oh, and I just thought you had the shits all night.”

“No!” she holds her finger up to me.

“He is staring at me like a fish out of water and dropped the women’s hand like it burned him. I turned to the women, to let her know where he’s been all night, so she might as well get out of her, before it turns into that Carman Diaz movie. I turned my head, and do you know who was sitting there, at that table, with the laughing hyena I’ve been crushing on for months?” She pauses for dramatic effect, “My mother”. She tells me with a straight face.

I spit my wine I was drinking all over the counter.

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No, no no!”

“Yes, oh yes.” We both burst out laughing.

With tears running down both of our faces, I try to ask her what she said next.

“I said Oh hi mom. What time is dinner on Friday? Oh, is that my shirt?” We laughed even more. After we settled down, I finally asked how she ended up with wine all over her.

“Oh, right after I said that he jumped up, right into the waiter, who tried to dodge him, and landed on me” she shows me her shirt, and then lifts it up to smell it, “I think it’s a merlot.”

We both just laughed and laughed after that.

I went into my room and got her a new shirt and leggings, and we went back to the couch with our giant glasses of wine, and popcorn, and finished watching the baking show I had on earlier.

“What happened with the waiter?” I asked her through a mouthful of popcorn.

“Oh yeah, we exchanged phone numbers, were going out tomorrow”

“Well you better make sure your mom has other plans” I tell her, and she throws a handful of popcorn in my face, while we laugh over her entire date all over again.