Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Dismissed

After holing up in my place for a while and avoiding my dear friends, I decided to book a table at a hot nightclub downtown and invite my sexy crew. The club has three floors with a different DJ on each, we spent the evening bouncing from floor to floor adjusting our gyrations to the varying beats. Sweat beaded upon our bodies as the liquor flowed freely and magazine photographers took pictures. Stealing glances at each other we laughed with delight, it was a fun evening long due.
I bumped into many familiar faces who all asked me the same question "where on earth have you been??"
"Hiding from you!" I replied each time.
Lucky was there. We still keep in touch.. or rather, I indulge him by answering his phone calls when I know he just wants to fuck me.

At the end of the night, we needed some after party trouble to get into. My tall boyishly handsome friend Shane proposed an "after-hours spot" not too far away. As we trailed him the route to the venue began to look awfully familiar. An aching knot formed in my stomach when I realized where we were headed. I called Shane immediately.
"Darling, pray may I ask what our destination is?"
Shane replied, "We're going to Gino's."
Fuck!
I thought about abandoning the crew and finding something else to do but my girlfriends were adamant about continuing this party. So we drove on.
As we parked and made it into the restaurant I spotted Teddie and Gino having a cigarette outside. Even though I knew they were friends, this moment was almost laughable. Teddie said hello and we exchanged a kiss on the cheek. When Gino moved to greet me with a kiss, I abruptly shook his hand and brushed past him into the restaurant. He was left standing with a bewildered look on his face and didn't follow me in.
Inside, we got another bottle and the party went on till the wee hours of the morning.
I ran into Gino again as I left, he was with another girl who looked like a street walker, maybe he's paying for lower-end companionship now? Who knows and who cares.

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