CHAPTER TWO – Making a fool of yourself

shithole

Who would have thought that? None, she answered to herself in a loud voice. None, she repeated one hundred times as she was dragging her poor body from one room to another in her house. She left the cup of coffee on the table and headed to the shower. As the water was falling with pressure on her face and body, she had the feeling that her mind was getting clearer also, despite the headache and the terrible hang over. At first, she felt a panic, and then she experienced embarrassment and then anger. Exactly as her psychotherapist would have spotted. She had a long way ahead of her to embrace the experience and evaluate her true feelings and thoughts about what had happened last night.
She started to catch her breath and slowly imposed a certain rhythm. Fifteen years of raja yoga made it quite easy. She put on some clean clothes and dried her hair. She was still a bit dizzy. She had some light fat milk and a banana to restore the levels of hydrolytes and potassium in her body. Then she put a cd with very relaxing Indian music, just sitar and a soothing voice that was repeating the sound ohm santé, and she unfolded the special yoga asana mattress. She took the lotus position and started to meditate.
One hour later, she was still in total confusion. She put on her snickers and went out to jog. After 10 kilometers she was exhausted and still confused.
She returned home. Ordered some chinese. And two different desserts. She put Casablanca and watched it twice.
Then she sank on the couch and stared at the ceiling. She tried to remember every detail, to put the pieces of last night in order.
She could never have predicted that things would get out of hand when she left the office to meet with Therese yesterday evening. At first she was surprised by the name and the place of the bar. She had never heard of this place before and she lived in the area for more than fifteen years. Her surprise was even bigger when she reached the address just to find out that the bar “All the lonely people” was practically a shit hole. She was not sure she had understand well so she texted Therese to confirm everything was ok. While waiting for Therese to text back, she was pretty sure she had made a mistake. But in two minutes she would see her friend popping out of the big wooden door saying hey, com’on in! She followed with hesitating steps and with eyes wide open from surprise and a feeling that all this was a big joke from the guys at work, and that at any minute, they would pop up suddenly, have a big laugh with her face, and leave the place to go to the actual meeting point with the appropriate reservation. But as minutes where passing by, she had to realize in panic that this was the ACTUAL meeting point, that there was not some kind of prank going on, and that her friend was pretty serious when she was telling her that this bar is her favorite spot.
Who would have guessed that seven camparies and six tequila shots later, she would be dancing in the middle of the bar, making a fool of herself, and then leave the bar with a middle aged marine guy named Peter, invite him home and make love to him all night long.
The confusing thing was that, despite the fact that it felt all wrong, it was by far the best night of her entire life.

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