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Crying in the club

After that slap in the face of being left on answerphone, I may or may not have decided to stop mopping around and get on with my life... well, if the many empty packets of crisps in the bin say much.

Okay, I've been eating a lot. Spending most of my money on food I know I don't necessarily need but want. The psychology of hunger.

And yes, there has been weight gain. But is that not better than starving oneself in the name of love? Besides, I can lose that weight when I want to....it's not like I'm teetering on the edge of obesity. Let's look on the bright side, at least I don't have to take off my clothes to see my ass.

"Okay, that's enough. You've seriously lost it if you're going to stand in front of the mirror and convince yourself that you are not living in dysfunction," Zippy shouts from across the room.

I quickly turn from my socks and see her standing by my bedroom door. Was I really talking out loud? And how long has she been standing there.

"Do you even know what dysfunction means?" I ask

"Doesn't matter. Anyway, we are going out tonight and it's not a request." She says plopping on my bed.

"I'm busy," I say.

"Yeah right. Busy pumping unnecessary food in your body as you lock yourself in here whilst obsessing over a man who left you on ANSWERPHONE and never returned your calls or messages." She says in exasperation.

"It's been two months since I last thought about him, stalked his social media profile or attempted calling him. TWO months." I say pulling on the socks.

"Yeah right," she snickers before she goes on about having found a perfect club. Zippy always has a perfect club. Every club to her is perfect.

"Anyway, my bed is comfortable and safe. Go risk your life and your kidney yourself." I say slipping into my bed and turning my back to her.

"You've been in bed soooo much and I blame it on Chris." Zippy said

I roll my eyes. Until when will she keep bringing this Chris topic up. I bet she's going to say I'm depressed because of him and that's why I keep sleeping. As if I was not a home body all my life.

"Well, props to him for that. At least he did one thing right," she says ripping the covers from me.

My eyes buldge as I catch her double meaning.

"Now get up, we've got a club to go to." She says.

****

Well, I don't know what happened and how it happened but Zippy managed to squeeze me into one of her shoulderless bodycon dresses which she "conveniently" carried because apparently I am fat and none of my clothes would fit me well enough.

So here we are with me almost getting an epileptic seizure from all the flashing lights. It feels like driving in the middle of nowhere and a mad truck driver putting their headlights on full, only now it's different light shades all in my head. It kind of feels like an officer pointing their flashlight in my face.

And the mixture of sweat, cheap perfume, bodies, liquor, smoke and other drugs is a smell I can do without.

I'm actually standing at the entrance wondering how I will get through this massive throng of bodies without freaking out when my hand gets yanked by a squealing girl.

If I ever thought of having any other persons sweaty body on mine it's cancelled and Chris can be the only one. If he wasn't then I'd have readily died a virgin because...

When Zippy pulled me through the crowd and people's sticky bodies brushed on mine...

We stop at a bar where two guys who Zippy introduces as Alex and Charles are sitting before pushing me into a stool between the two guys.

I was getting uncomfortable and irritated by the way Alex and Charles were staring at me or my period boobs which by the way are sore because a number of bodies bumped into my chest. As if on cue, a bartender asks what I'll have and Zippy starts talking to Alex.

Charles opens his mouth as if to order for me, but I quickly order a sprite and glass only to get an odd look.

"What?" I ask

"Nothing alcoholic? Or you're planning on mixing your drink with something," Charles asks cocking his eyebrow.

Is this seriously how girls get picked up in clubs?

I tell him no and pour my drink into my glass before turning to Zippy who seems to be chugging her sprite down so fast, but not as fast as how Alex is drinking the movement of her backside as she wiggles in her chair.

It's not that we don't drink, I for one have never directly tasted alcohol and Zippy drinks, but she is very particular on when she drinks. Today she wanted to have fun and not to get wasted. She also gets sugar rushes so easily. Sugar rush Zippy is crazier than drunk or high Zippy. I bring my drink to my mouth and take slow sips giving Charles an opportunity to shoot his shot if that's what he wants so I don't come off as rude.

Looks like the sugar has started kicking in because she slams her can of sprite onto the bar the way I see Koreans slam their bowls of Soju on tables in Kdrama. I quickly put my glass down and accidentally on purpose tip it over when she pulls my hand. Accidentally on purpose because no way am I coming back to drink anything that was not attended to by trusted persons.

Saying a short apology as Zippy yanks me onto the dance floor, I push all thoughts of disgusting sweaty bodies out of my mind and follow my crazy best friend.

Let me tell you something about Zippy, she hates Chris-always has-, 5'6 with a front that represents her back,amazingly clear dark skin and a curvy body. On top of that all, she has the perfect weight and she has these African features that sit so well on her. Nose, lips ,eyes, everything. She'd be a model if people were not hell bent on choosing skinny women and dragging them to the very depths of anorexia just for a "pretty" image, whatever that means. I on the other hand like Chris unlike her. Okay, maybe liked because I am so over him. I'd describe my 5'4 self but I'd rather let another do so because this is getting weird.