I screw up my face. “Thanks. I’m freaking out. What if I break into sex talk? I’m so desensitised to sexual therapy I fear I don’t know what’s normal psychologist talk anymore.”
He laughs. “Just try to not say the words vibrator, semen or prostitute.” He bites his lip to stifle his smile.
I nod and smile broadly. “I kind of like those words. What about Viagra … can I say Viagra?” I tease.
“Yeah, if you get me a script.” He giggles.
“Eeww, gross.” I frown. “Too much information.”
“See, it’s working already. You never say Eeww gross.”
I laugh and hunch my shoulders. “Hey … you’re right. See you tonight. Wish me luck.”
1 am Cargo Bar
We sit at the huge wooden benches on our cane high-back stools. The cream Chinese lanterns glow a warm light throughout the space and the sound of loud laughter and voices echo throughout the room. David Guetta plays in the background. We are celebrating the completion of my first week in my new job. It seems we have found a new hangout for Friday nights. Bridget was asked here a couple of weeks ago to meet this guy she fancied and we sort of became instantly hooked. This place definitely deserves the title, Drycleaners. Never have you seen so many beautiful men in suits under one roof—Friday night work drinks of course. It’s like shooting fish in a barrel, they don’t stand a chance. I have to say, I myself stand a very good chance of being picked for the Australian Olympic team … in Prick Teasing. I seem to have mastered the art of, as Abbie says, not giving a shit. I give them fake names, fake jobs and fake phone numbers, not to mention my fake intentions. Just last week my name was Gertrude and I was a taxidermist. Tonight my name is Cheetah and I am a contortionist. I have never laughed so much in my life. Bridget broke up with Jeremy and for the first time in history the three of us are actually on the same page when it comes to men. Who cares … whatever. While Didge and I spend our nights lying and club kissing, Abbie spends hers running away from army guy, aka Tristan. It seems he thinks he is love with her and she is running for her life, scared. We can only go to the Ivy now when we have had enough fun and Abbie turns into a pumpkin and is ready to go home with Tristan, otherwise she has to behave and act all girlfriendy. Hilarious. It’s so fun teasing her for a change. We are talking to four guys we met here a couple of weeks ago. They are all gorgeous and slightly younger than us, stockbrokers … or so they say.
“So, Felicity,” one of the guys says. My eyes look around as I wave to another man we met earlier tonight.
“Felicity,” he repeats. I keep looking around.
“Fuck off. Your name is not Felicity, is it?” He pokes me.
“Oh, you’re talking to me?” I giggle.
Bridget laughs. “Ah der Felicity, who else would he be talking to?” She rolls her eyes around in her head like a freak.
I giggle into my drink. “And what’s your name again?” he asks Bridget.
“What do you want it to be?” She laughs.
“Threesome.” He laughs as his friend chokes on his drink in shock.
We all giggle, we really are very pissy.
“What’s your name?” the tall guy asks Abbie.
“Lemon, Lime and Soda.” She coos. God … such floozies, men are so stupid.
“I’ll get you one.” He runs to the bar and she winks at us.
“Right, free drinks for the girl who can get these guys to kiss.” Abbie smirks into her glass.
I burst out laughing. “Margaritas, can I get margaritas?”
“Of course,” Bridget snaps. “I want Martinis.”
The tall nob returns with her drink. “Thank you,” Abbie whispers as she shrugs shyly. Oh boy … get off it! This guy is as dumb as dog shit if he falls for that crap. Abbie doesn’t have a shy bone in her body.
“So,” Bridget smiles at the four men, “we thought we might go to another bar.”
“Can we come with you?” the cute curly-haired brunette with brown eyes asks innocently as he leans forward on the table.
“Yes, I suppose, but you have to do an initiation test if you want to party with us.”
Abbie and I hide our laughter behind our glasses.
“Yeah, ok.” The tall guy smiles. “What is this initiation?” The boys all laugh and start flexing their biceps like freaks as we giggle.