Manic Attack

I. What Choo Wearing?

The full moon looked fascinating against the cloudy sky. The humidity, my frizzy hair, and the mosquitoes - everything usually got a lot more interesting when my boyfriend rambled about his latest tragedy.

"I sacked Antonio."

"Red Mohawk or Brunette Rapunzel?" I asked. Other than the name of the person who had fallen victim to Dan's tantrums, nothing else was out of the ordinary about his revelation.

"The stylist," he said with an eye roll that could be sensed over the phone. "Brunette Rapunzel."

Ah, that guy. His luscious brown mane had always been my one of my #goals.

"Why would you do that?" I inspected my new manicure. "He had pretty gorgeous hair."

A black and white tuxedo accentuated by a red tie had been painted neatly on each nail. My manicurist was possibly the only one I trusted after Mel and Dan. No, scratch Dan. He made me question my decision-making skills.

"Well, his gorgeous hair just gave me a razor cut. I'd already asked him to get his bangs trimmed because they were getting in his eyes. I should've sacked him the day he handed me a glass of vodka instead of water."

"But you didn't, because you enjoyed that glass of vodka."

"That's irrelevant. Aren't you listening? This face has a razor cut now! It's almost one point five centimeters long."

"You measured it?" Dan talking numbers in a context that did not include the price of clothes or cars were as rare as me discussing the economy.

"Of course I did! I can't risk a rash on my elbow and this wound is clear as day under my left eye."

As weird and ignorant as it may sound, Dan was a lot like Kim Kardashian to me- I kind of had an idea about why he was famous. The only things for certain were his modeling contracts for leading European brands and his gorgeous duplex in SoHo.

Girls wanted him for his looks, physique and platinum credit card but I liked him for what was inside. He was good at heart. That's what I meant by inside.

"It's just a cut, babe. Will probably heal sooner than you think. Do you want me to kiss it?"

"Your kiss will only infect it, Monica," he deadpanned, ignoring my effort to sound romantic. "Don't talk like you didn't attend basic Health Ed classes in high school."

The soft moonlight cast an elegant glow in the courtyard. I leaned against the wall, basking in all its dimly lit beauty as I resisted the urge to sigh, or maybe it was the urge to bash that precious face of his through the phone. "Did you apply anything to it?"

"Yeah, some brownish thing Antonio dabbed. Stung even harder."

"It's called Betadine," I said, "and is this why you called me?"

"I don't care what it's called; it made my eyes water like a fountain and yes this is exactly why I called. I thought you'd understand what I'm going through. You clearly don't."

The chatter of excited youngsters grew closer. Even the late ones had arrived by now. "Baby, I totally understand what you're going through but I'm in the middle of something here."

"You mean the uni dance?"

"Yes, the dance." I sighed. "Of all things, the least they expect from me is to inexplicably disappear in the middle of their event."

"Oh, come on!" Dan snorted, "You and I both know they invited you just for a mention in your column. They're craving the extra publicity that you come with."