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| Posted 3 months ago |
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Category Flirting |
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Facebook Meeting
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I was going to meet Teresa at a hotel bar where we used to meet all the time. I had not seen her for almost 4 years and on the way I admitted myself that I was actually excited. I calmed myself. She must be excited too.
I had dated Teresa for more than 3 years and I do not remember more than a couple of instances when we did not argue. Our relationship was full of arguments and maybe it was these arguments that kept the relationship alive for such a long time. She was the only girl that I felt like I could spend all my life together. If only she could have changed a bit.
I went into the bar and sat in my favorite corner at the bar. I looked around for the usual bartender who had been serving there for more than two decades. He was a very old guy and he had the most pleasant stories to tell to his customers. But he was not there. There was a young bartender who approached me with a very cold face and asked me what I wanted to drink. I ordered a martini. Things change but a martini is a martini I thought.
I found Teresa's profile on Facebook. Last week, on a boring afternoon at the office I typed her name and there she was. Her hair was now stylishly red and I thought it did not really look good on her. I did not of course tell her that. Instead I invited her for a drink at our usual place. Maybe it was just a phase she was going through, I thought. I know those phases very well. She becomes like somebody else. A mad woman who can shave her head just to see me in agony.
I had my second martini finished. She was late as usual. I was not surprised. Her being late for more than twenty minutes gave me the same uneasy feeling I felt when she was always late to places while we were dating. It was in fact at this bar I had decided to propose to her but she was late and I cancelled the proposition.
My phone rang. It was Teresa. She was sorry for her being late and was going through all the details why she was late and so on. If only she could have been a bit more concise. She likes to talk. But you should see her talk to know what I mean. She just can't stop. She goes into every detail of what has happened and most of the time I lose track of what she is telling and get interested in something else. Then she starts asking questions about her story to test me if I had listened and that I fully understood everything she told me. And if I cannot answer one of her questions she was always ready to blow a fierce argument about how disrespectful and unmannerly I was. In one of those arguments she scratched my cheek with her nails and I slapped her. We had vulgar fights all the time and they all ended with steamy make up sex. I think it was this push and pull fuel of a strange passion that kept us going.
We stopped seeing each other easily though. One day we met here again at this bar. She told me a story about how her close friend Jenna and her boyfriend had an argument over a wooden table that they would like to have custom made for their home. Jenna was insisting that it should be made of pear wood and her boyfriend, I forgot poor fella's name, wanted a mahagony table. I thought he was right and mahagony is the best for a dinner table. Teresa said pear looks great. And we had a fight over an argument of another couple. At the end she threw me a glass full of wine and I, seeing that my martini is finished, threw her the olives in my martini glass. We left the bar, parted and never saw each other again, till this day. I had no intention to get together again with her but I don't know why, deep inside me, I was hoping that she had changed after 4 years.
When the cold bartender brought my third warm martini she appeared at the door. She was in a gorgeous one piece lilac colored dress which highlights her beautiful ivory skin. Her hair was red but it actually looked good on her, contrary to the picture on facebook. She was different but yet the same somehow. She sat next to me with her usual elegance and kissed me on the cheek while touching my chin with her slim fingers. She ordered wine and started sipping it quietly. She seemed almost too quiet. I felt affection and went on to ask her what had happened. She started telling me about a guy he met online and how he does not pay attention to her when she tells him things. She was really getting excited as she talked and talked and talked. I tried to listen for a while but lost my interest and instead started listening to a conversation between a couple sitting next to us. A young man and a woman was having an argument about their wedding. She wanted to have a big ceremony where everyone they know could be present. He, on the other hand, wanted to go to Las Vegas to get married. I felt for the poor guy who was trying to explain how he detested big weddings and that big ceremonies are only headaches for themselves. His soon to be bride started raising her voice and I turned my head to look at them. When I turned my face back at Teresa I saw her vicious eyes magnified behind her wine glass. She poured it all over my face.
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