Si you have my number

Sato.

One of the resident doctors hit the big 27 in the course of last week. Guys meet up. Stories are shared. A change of venue. The night goes on. Rain. Lots of rain. Some lass shaking what her mama gave her. 2am. Time to go home. In the midst of working out the logistics, tao is mentioned. Then Tropez. Something about them selling water.

Myself and the birthday boy check in first. Pass by the counter as we look around for a place to sit. I notice a chic by the counter in a black top. Looks vaguely familiar. As it is most chics look vaguely familiar to me [must be out of some subliminal desire] so I don't pay too much attention, and move on. I linger. There's no way we're going to get seats in here.

About turn. Standing next to the vaguely familiar chic is another chic, now facing me. Yes. She's vaguely familiar too. My mind starts a search. I move closer, as multiple scenes are examined and discarded for lack of that face. I smile. Say hi. She's also trying to figure out who I am. I turn to acknowledge the other member of this party. As soon as I lay my eyes on her, properly this time, search results are returned. It all comes back. She's a recent acquaintance. A brief meeting. Two ships passing each other by in the night. Literally. A hug for the new year. Another for the last. The latter at my insistence.

The birthday boy joins us. Introductions all round. Two couples are formed where one minute ago there were none. He bonds with the one as I catch up with the other. She's mad at me. I replied to her new year's text in a not-so-nice fashion. "What text?". She's not sent me a text this year. I'm absolutely certain. She gives me that look. OK. "What exactly did you say?". She's not going to make this easy. My mind has started another search. Nothing is returned for "not-so-nice sms". She throws me a straw. Part of the sms she apparently sent me. "THAT was you?", I say to myself. I must have deleted her number by then. A story for another post. The sms itself was something like "... wishing you a horny new year, licked with luv ...". I remember looking at it and going, "Ala!". My response to what I thought was some random forward [I couldn't figure out who could have actually intended that sms for me] was something in the lines of "Who knew random wishes can come true ... Here's to a less horny rest of the week, and year".

At some point the rest of the crew indicated that they were headed home. Enyewe a guy needs to head home. Or does he. He does. Does he really. It's 4am. They're probably already closing down the place. "When can I see you again?". "Si you have my number." I'm crushed.