Saturday, 17 January 2015

Love on Ice

Dear Friends,
As the second shot of tequila hits my senses, I can't help but feel amorous. It would be nice, I muse while cutting the red pepper into small cubes, to have someone put his arms around me and ask a silly question like, whatchadoin? 
I'm not sure wether it's the cold temperatures outside, Charles Aznavour's sensuous voice inside, or the place-setting for one, on a Saturday night, that makes me think of my ex-lover. I liked him liking to watch me cook, while sipping wine. I shall befriend him on Facebook again, I say aloud, as I start chopping the kale. He was my dream guy, physically. Tall, slim, with penetrating blue eyes, long strawberry-blond hair and a boyish smile. Unfortunately, in every other way, he was a jerk. 
Before I have a chance to rebuke my wandering mind, I run the knife across my perfectly shaped red nail! I stand there in horror, that could've been my finger! The universe has spoken! Even thinking about him is catastrophic! I reach for the bottle, reflecting on what one of the guys at the Pub, said to me last week. "You can't settle down in one place because you haven't found the right guy yet!" Spoken like a true man, I thought — then. Now, I only need one more shot of tequila to take me from amorous to oblivious!  

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