Sunday, November 22, 2009

Jealousy 17

At 9pm, I punch out and grab my shopping bag, taking it to the bathroom with me. I’m in a great mood. The VIP tables gave me about $300 in tips plus another $200 from my other tables. Wollensky’s really does pay well for a part time job. Carefully, I put the money inside my purse in the zippered pouch. I decide to get dressed at Desi’s house and settle for just washing my hands. I find the key in her purse, wave goodbye to mark, blow Desi a kiss and head to her place. I’ve been out with Desi several times and I know she will be home and ready to go by 10:15. I need more time so rush to catch the train. It’s a much more pleasant ride than the night before and I enjoy watching the people on the train. There is a group of three teenagers that I would never have guessed would be friends. Big boxes of Mika and Ike’s or Junior Mints hang out of their pockets and they are still looking over the playbill for The Blue man Group. They are chatting excitedly and reenacting their favorite scenes. I have seen the performance 6 times already and would go again.

Across from them are a mother and her little girl. The little girl looks to be about 4 and is wearing a pastel pink dress and a matching bow in her hair. She has on thick white tights and a cute little white winter dress jacket. She is curled up in her mother’s lap, sound asleep, while her mother smoothes her hair and kisses the top of her head unconsciously. The mother looks like she would also like to be sound asleep.

All around us are people ready to go out. It feels good to identify with this group. Finally, the Sheridan red line stop is called and I disembark. I walk half a mile to her apartment and let myself in. It’s a decent enough place, but lacks much of the architecture I love. Her apartment is an “L” shape, with her bedroom being on the corner of the building. It is decorated with a lot of mismatched second hand furniture and is always a mess. I would pick up for her, but I don’t have time. I have to get ready assuming that I will see John and want to make an impression.

I strip off my work clothes and take a 10 minute shower, just long enough to rinse the Wollensky smell off and shampoo the crinkle left in my hair where my hair ties were pressing it. I dry off quickly, using her Aveeno lotion. I love that it is unscented. I have never been fond of smelling like a fruit or flower. When I am done, I slide my pretty black and pink under clothes back on. I realize I don’t have anything but my work pants with me and leave the bathroom to raid Desi’s closet.

Desi is bigger than me, but I know she keeps a small stash on I-will-fit-into-these-one-day clothes hanging at the back of her closet. I rifle through them quickly and find a cute pair of dark washed skinny jeans. They do not fit me like skinny jeans and I have to cinch a belt to the last notch in order to make them fit. I look in the mirror and know it is not going to work. I take them off and place them back on the hanger. I rummage some more and find a pair of jeans I must have left when I crashed over at her place for the all night John marathon we had when her boyfriend broke up with her. She’s a John Cusack fan as well and it was a lot of fun, even though there were frequent tears.

They are slightly wrinkled, but I know I don’t have time to deal with it. I doubt John will have any reason to look at my ankles. Quickly, I put them on and then grab my shopping bag and put on my new shirt. I take the towel off my head and vigorously dry my hair. The clock reads 10pm. Desi will be walking in the door any minute.

I go back to the bathroom and dig through her drawers until I find her hair dryer and curling iron. I plug in the curling iron and it starts to heat up instantly. I don’t hear the front door open, but Desi is calling from the kitchen. “Okay chaquita. I am home. I’ll be ready in about 10 minutes.” I flip on the hair dryer and start smoothing down my hair with her brush. When my hair is barely damp, she walks in. She has changed into a long sleeved, very low cut shirt and a pair of jeans. She reaches over me and grabs a sparkly barrette. “Oh my god! I love your top!” she says. “What are you going to do with your hair because I have this great fabric headband that will look awesome with it.”

“Well, I was going to curl it and leave it down.” I am talking to her back. She has already turned around and is walking to her dresser where she keeps most of her hair supplies and jewelry. In her hand, she is carrying a thin black hair band that has small silver swirls woven through it.

“Curl your hair, but don’t leave it down. Pull it back with this,” she says holding out the band, “so people can see these!” She opens her hand to reveal a pair of black tear drop chandelier earrings encased in antiqued silver. I am in love with them.

“Are you sure?” I ask, not wanting to take the very few accessories she has.

She takes a step back, closing her hands around the items and placing them on her hips. Desi pretends to be taken aback and scowls at me. “You know I don’t offer it up if I don’t want to give it up.”

I put my hands in my pockets and shrug my shoulders. “Aw baby. You know I want wha’ you got.” We both crack up laughing. It’s an inside joke from the first time we went out. We are mimicking the hooker and client we saw outside the Rainbo Club. I put my hands out and she freely hands me the contents.

“What time is it?” I ask.

“It’s like 10:15, I think.” She doesn’t glance at the clock, but I am certain she is right.

“Okay. I’ll hurry. Do you want to make us a quick pre-bar drink?” My nerves are starting to get the better of me and I am hoping the Apple Pucker in 7-Up equivalent of a wine cooler will make my hands stop shaking.

Desi disappears. I curl my hair and pull it back with the hair band, adding the earrings to my lobes. It all looks wonderful together and I feel really pretty for the first time. She comes back with the drink. I take a gulp. “Desi. Will you help me with my make-up? I am tired of my plain Jane neutral colors and would like to spice it up…. A little.” I warn.

“Really?” She is surprised and she had reason to be. She has tried to talk me into adding a little color for a long time and I always turn her down.

“Yes! Absolutely.” I exhale. “Laura and I were talking today and I realized I need to turn over a new leaf and start making myself known. I don’t want to be the wall flower anymore. She suggested that I start going out and dressing up a bit. So, will you jump on the bandwagon and help me?”

“Hell yeah!” she says enthusiastically. “What made for the big change of heart though? Was it the incident last night?”

“You heard, huh?” I am slightly embarrassed, but know that Desi would never do anything to make me feel uncomfortable. She shakes her head yes. “Yeah. She told me that if I wanted to be noticed and have any guy in my life, I needed to get out there. I thought I better give it a shot now because if I don’t, I will sit in my room and change my mind by morning.”

Desi has already grabbed her impressive make-up stock. I’ve never known anyone who loves make-up more. She could open her own counter with the supply she has. The best part is how good she is at it. She tells me she was forced to learn a lot about make-up application from being on the stage. I think the statement is inaccurate. I don’t think Desi had to be forced to learn about make-up. Ten minutes later, I look like amazing. I finish drinking my Apple Pucker and we head out the door.


  1. Lots of typos and incomplete sentences/ thoughts. For example, she didn't dry off using Aveeno lotion. I will probably do some minor grammatical editing tomorrow. Tonight I am going to bed.

  2. It wasn't too bad in the typos...I followed easily and some people do "dry off" with Lotion so I didn't get hung up there.

    Maybe we should have a editing lunch one day.

    I like where this is going. I hope she does have a good time at the Green Mill, regardless of Mr. Cusack's presence and attentions or lack there of.
    Well almost 3 hours after you I am off to bed.