“Yeah, no, he was a complete moron,” I said scrunching my nose. “What were you even thinking?”
“You needed to get laid,” she admitted.
“Gross,” I replied.
“Okay, so if it wasn’t him then who?”
“Why does it have to be a who? I am capable of being happy without a man,” I said unconvincingly.
“Seriously?”
“Fine,” I said leaning forward excitedly. “After I left the restaurant I went across the street to Exposé and sat at their bar.”
“They have a bar?”
“Yeah,” I said. “So, I’m sitting there drowning my sorrows in whiskey and mainstream media, and in walks this gorgeous guy in a suit I swear probably cost more than my college education.”
“Probably worth more too,” she said sarcastically.
“Anyway,” I said rolling my eyes. “He sat down and started talking to me, and I assumed it would be more bullshit, but it was so far from that I couldn’t even explain it. He was intelligent, open-minded, and pretty much my male clone.”
“Oh, lord,” she replied.
“So, we drank and talked and then I went back to his place,” I said. “In The Avalon.”
“What? He lives in The Avalon? What the hell does he do?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I haven’t asked yet. But then the next morning he cooked me breakfast in bed and then took me out into the city for the entire day, talking and walking.”
“Like talking about life or what?”
“Everything,” I said excitedly. “Politics, worldviews, people, food, the city, family, everything.”
“I don’t get it,” she said looking at me strangely.
“You don’t get what?”
“You meet a guy at a bar, you sleep with him, then you spend the whole next day with him,” she said as if it were a question and a statement at the same time.
“Yeah, and?”
“And, are you kidding me? And you don’t even know what he does for a living,” she said. “He lives in the most luxurious and expensive place in the city, goes to Exposé on the weekends, and you didn’t think to ask what he did? He could totally be in the mob or like someone who extorts money from people.”
“No,” I said shaking my head. “I’m sure he owns a company or something.”
“So, when are you going back out with this guy?”
“I don’t know,” I sighed. “Whenever he calls and asks me out, I guess.”
“Mmmm,” she said looking down at her watch and packing up the food. “We have a ten o’clock appointment at the nail salon. We gotta go.”
We left Marie’s in a hurry with me almost spilling coffee all over myself as I ran for the cab. We were always doing that, getting caught up in conversations and then having to rush to whatever appointment we had. I honestly forgot all about the nail appointment since I usually never paid to get a manicure. I knew that Lisa enjoyed it, it was her break from having to do anything but focus on herself. She was a professor at New York University, and her days, and nights, were always filled with student and faculty issues. She was the youngest tenured professor in the history of NYU, but to get that title, she had to seriously kick some ass and put in the time.
When we arrived at the nail salon, we picked out our colors and were seated next to each other. The woman behind the desk pulled on my hand and turned the lights on it, starting the manicure. Lisa sat next to me smiling at her tech, who happened to be an attractive guy, who also happened to be wearing a Gay Pride T-shirt from that year’s parade. When he walked away, I pointed it out to Lisa, and she got pouty quickly.
“So, what does this mystery man look like?”
“He’s tall, tan, extremely muscular, with dark hair and blue eyes,” I said. “Like drop dead gorgeous.”