Chapter 2 THE PINK FLAMINGO

• M E R E D I T H
• “You better be ready when I come pick you up.”
• “You know pubs are not my thing.”
• “Yeah, sure.” He mocked me while answering.
• “Why don’t you join Ramona and I inside?”
• “And what? Be your babysitter? No fucking way.” He responded right away as he finally pulled over the outside of The Pink Flamingo. “Be quick when I come pick you up. You hear me?”
• “Yes, Lawry.” I answered as I unbuckled my seatbelt. “I heard you.”
• “I swear to God if you do not come out, I will leave your ass.”
• I turned to him, “Jesus Christ Lawrence, yes I heard you the first time.” I faced my back to him as I was about to leave but he stopped me.
• “Hey hey hey, not so fast millipede.” Lawrence teases me with the nickname that he just loves calling me as he gently grabbed a part of my hair and pulled me back.
• “Ouch!” I smacked his arm as I pulled my hair back. “What???”
• “And do not drink too much, please. Last time I drove your drunk ass home you puked all over the backseat and it took me forever to get rid of the stench. Have mercy on my car. It is white leather.” He forced a smile on his face as he finally released my hair.
• “Okay, Christ.” I stepped out of the passenger’s seat, “Thanks Lawry! See you later.”
• “Do not slam–”
• I cut him off as fast as I could as I strongly slammed his passenger door which I absolutely love doing to tease him back. Before he could say a single thing to me, I rushed towards the entrance of The Pink Flamingo and heard him hollering towards me, “You ass-hat!”
• The moment I entered the pub, it was blasting with music while every woman was wearing a sexy dress or other seductive attire, which was very different from what I was wearing. However, it did not matter as long as I felt comfortable with my attire given my purpose for being here and that was to accompany Ramona. Since The Pink Flamingo is a venue that older men, from their late twenties to early forties, visit as opposed to the clubs that our generation of men are regularly seen in, I have only been here once before while Ramona typically comes here to meet males.
• Pubs, I can tolerate, but nightclubs? Not so much. All the blinding lights and deafening music blasting to your ears and sweaty body to body dance on the dancefloor, not really my typical crowd. Not ever.
• “Babe! You made it!” Ramona smiled widely and hugged me as soon as I approached her while she was already speaking with an older looking man who seemed to be in his late twenties or early thirties.
• The thing I like about Ramona is that she never actually makes me wear anything sexy and respects the fact that I have a very different sense of style from hers because, no matter what she is wearing, I do not comment negatively on it either, unless she is wearing something that almost comes close to being completely revealing, then that is the time I will say something about it.
• “Mary, I want you to meet George.” Ramona gestured with her hands. “George, I want you to meet my bestest friend in the entire world, Mary.”
• “Hi, it is so nice to meet you.” He extends his hand to which I accepted.
• “Hey. Nice to meet you too.” I smiled.
• “The first round is on George, here.” Ramona handed me a glass of whisky.
• “Thanks.” I smiled at Ramona then at George.
• “You are welcome.” He answered.
• “Cheers!” Ramona raised her glass and so did we.
• “Cheers.” George and I responded.
• George told us that he works in a bank as a teller and that he comes around The Pink Flamingo to enjoy the night with his friends whom he told us were seated on the other table from across. Ramona had told me that she waited for me to arrive before we could join the two other guys on the other table because she wanted to know if I was okay with it. George was nice and sounded nice and obviously Ramona had that look in her eyes where her insides were screaming right at my face the words ‘He is a good catch.’ So eventually we joined George and his two other friends’ table.
• “This is James and this is Vincent.” George introduced them to us and they were very courteous, maybe because they were older and wiser. “Fellas, this is Ramona and this is Mary.”
• After listening to these guys for thirty minutes, I started to feel out of place in their discourse and at first I felt they were too good to be true, which they were, because the atmosphere on the table had gotten dry and distant. As was to be expected, Ramona was a people-person and was skilled at interacting with others because of who she was; as a result, she was able to mix and mingle with George while James and Vincent had invited other women to the table, leaving me by myself drinking the whisky that I had bought also for myself. Although Ramona was gracious enough to let me join her and George in their talk, I came to the conclusion that the group was not at all what I had anticipated.
• I stood from where I sat and as soon as I did, Ramona called out, “Where are you going?”
• “Getting another drink.” I smiled at her.
• “Hey,” She rubbed her palm against my arm, “Loosen up a little.” She speaks to my ear as she smiles at me before turning her attention towards George.
• I know what she meant by that, which makes me think to myself if I am really missing out on a lot of ‘fun’ things in my life when I avoid conversations with boys.
• I quickly took off my jacket and hung it over the empty chair from our table because I was feeling hot due to the garment I was wearing and the two shots of whisky I had consumed. I staggered my way over to the bar stand, where the bartender was taking care of a few clients who had arrived alone and were seated in this high chair. I could feel myself getting a bit dizzy but I was able to manage myself alone.
• “Hey pretty lady, what can I get you?” The bartender smiled at me.
• I subtly smiled back, “Can I just have a glass of orange juice, please?”
• “Cleansing already?” He smirked at me as I saw him preparing my drink. “The night is still young.”
• I shake my head sideways, “I am not really a massive drinker.”
• “Alright pretty, one orange juice coming right up.” He answered with his genuinely nice toned voice.
• As the music was surrounding the entire pub, the conversations were loud but the laughs were much louder which was making me a bit much dizzier, I instantly spotted a commotion from right across me as soon as this woman in red as trying to started to violently scream at an absolutely drunk man who she called out as someone who grabbed her ass. The bouncers were quick to approach the commotion which was obviously getting a lot of attention in the pub as they were being pulled out of the place.
• “We never really know what stupidity is until we have experimented on ourselves.”
• “What?” A woman responds, sounding confused.
• My brows creased as soon as I heard someone quote that infamous line which makes me mutter to myself, “Paul Gauguin.” I pulled my head up as soon as I felt a movement from my right where I saw a man dressed in a white polo shirt, black dress pants and black leather shoes as his eyes darted at me while the woman whom he was talking to was also looking at me.
• Crap, I think I said that one out too loud, now he might think that I was listening to their conversation.
• “I am sorry?” The matured looking man spoke to me as he completely mesmerized me by his ridiculously handsome face while there was an empty chair right between us.
• “That quote,” I responded. “It was infamously said by Paul Gauguin.”
• “Why do you know him?” He questioned.
• “Well, he was a colleague of Vincent Van Gogh as they actually shared some of the same interests such as depression and suicidal tendencies. Two post-impressionist masters had such an intense and turbulent friendship that lasted only sixty-three days and ended in one of the most bizarre acts in the history of art where Van Gogh brutally sliced off his own ear and…” I trailed off as I realized that I weirdly went on and on again about art and ridiculously talked about depression, suicide and freaking severing off of ears.
• Ugh, you are such a creep, Meredith.
• There was this weird silence between us while he was just staring at me, “I am so sorry.” I ended the silence. “I was… I did not mean to intervene the conversation you had with her.”
• Shockingly, the handsome looking man turned his back around towards me at the same time the bartender had given me my order to which I grabbed it immediately planning to leave where I sat since I had just ridiculously embarrassed myself again.
• Right before I could leave, I heard the same man’s voice call out to me, “Hey.” I halted and looked back at him where the woman had hollered the word ‘freaks’ before she left. “Gauguin or Van Gogh?” He asked.
• My eyes widened in shock because for the first time in my life, a man I met in such a random place was actually interested in art. “I think it is a matter of a personal choice, but mine is Gauguin.”
• “I am a huge Van Gogh fan.” To my surprise, he extended his hand to mine and added, “Call me Diether.”
• I accepted his hand as I replied, “And you can call this a debate.”