Muse’s
Latest Discovery
“MOV, have
you ever shopped online?” said a little voice, startling me in the middle of
the night while I sat at my computer shopping online. “It’s kinda fun.”
“Muse, my
gosh, do you never call first? You
almost gave me a heart attack.”
“So answer
the question. I found this cool web
sighting, it’s called Overstock, and, like, they have really good deals.”
Receiving
this piece of news was like finding out that trees are made of bark and leaves
and roots. “Umm, yeah, I already knew
about Overstock.”
“Oh, you
did? Huh. Well, they send me 10% off coupons all the
time now, so if you ever need a coupon, I can give you one.”
I was slowly
realizing that she’d been drinking again.
“Muse, they email coupons to everyone.
I don’t really need your coupons.
But thanks anyway.”
“I bought a
couch from them! But then it arrived and
we had to put it together, you know, it came in pieces.”
We?! “Muse, who?
Who put it together for you?”
“The UPS
guy. I asked him what was in the box, he
said ‘How should I know, you ordered it,’ and the next thing you know, he’s sitting
on my floor with his shirt off, drinking a beer, and putting my couch together
for me.” She winked at me.
“Muse, are
you trying to say you were flirting with the UPS guy?”
“No, I am
not trying to say that, I am saying that.
Have you seen my UPS guy? He’s
hot.”
I only knew
what my UPS guy looked like. Not
hot. Not even lukewarm.
“So anyway,
Paulo and I are going out to dinner tomorrow night. Wanna come?”
“Who is
Paulo?”
“Have you
not been listening just now? My UPS
guy? The one who put my couch
together? I told him it was the least I
could do, buy him dinner, after he stayed all afternoon adjusting my—”
“Muse! I have heard enough. Wait—his name is Paulo? What kind of UPS guy has a name like
that?”
“So you will
have dinner with us? I don’t want him to
get the wrong idea about me.”
I decided I
would have dinner with Muse and Paolo.
What could possibly go wrong?
(To be
continued …)
MOV
Meal With
Muse
I got to the
restaurant early, as per my Virgo nature.
The maître d’ greeted me warmly.
“May I help you, miss?” I could
see why Muse picked this restaurant—what 40-year-old woman does not want to be addressed
as “Miss”?
“Why, yes,”
I enthused, “I’m meeting some friends here, and—”
The maître
d’ was looking behind me, and I realized he had not been speaking to me after
all. I turned around, and there was
Muse.
“Hello! Yes, there will be four of us.” Muse winked at him, winked at me, and gave a
few extra winks to whoever happened to be within winking distance.
I smiled in
relief that she was here. “Muse! Hello!”
I leaned in for the European back-and-forth kiss that I always seem to
get wrong. Muse leaned in for the
American air kiss and accidentally got her hair tangled in my necklace.
“Ack, MOV,
take the necklace off!”
“I
can’t! You’re choking me!”
We someone
separated, hair and jewelry intact, and then her previous words seeped into my
brain: four. She’d said four people.
“Muse, who
else is coming besides Paulo?”
“Aha, MOV,
he has a twin! Armin.”
“Why is
Armin coming? I’m married. You know that.”
“Oh, dear
God, MOV, don’t be naïve. Armin is not
for you to suss out, he’s for me to suss out.
I might like him better than I like Paulo. I don’t want to get stuck with the wrong
twin.” She shrugged, as if she’d said, I
don’t want to accidentally buy the wrong size shoes.
“Muse, you
do realize we are talking about people, don’t you? You can’t say this person is better than that
per—”
“Ladies,”
interrupted the maître d’, “shall I seat you now and bring your dates over when
they arrive?”
“Yes,
please!” Muse exclaimed. “Perfect.”
We sat down
and before we even had a chance for Muse to flirt with the waiter, Paulo and
Armin approached our table. To say they
were handsome is like saying the sun is a tad bit warm. I was mesmerized by their good looks and
could not stop gawking at them.
Muse jumped
up out of her seat and hugged them both, as if they had been long-lost best
friends from childhood, not the UPS guy and his brother whom she met for the
first time four hours ago.
“Guys, guys,
I am so happy to see you! This is my
boss, MOV.”
Wait—what? Did she just call me her boss?
“Nice to
meet you, I’m Armin,” said the one with the blindingly white teeth.
“How do you
do, I am Paulo. Muse has told me so much
about you,” said the one with a better tan.
We all sat
down in the booth, with Muse and me on the same side.
“Shall we
get a bottle of wine?” asked Muse.
“Absolutely! You know, our uncle owns a small vineyard in
France. Maybe his wine is on the list?”
said Paulo.
Armin
scanned the list. “Look, Paulo, they
have three of his wines! I told you this
was a good restaurant.”
I excused
myself to go to the ladies’ room. I
stood in front of the mirror critiquing my outfit. I always felt old next to Muse.
When I
returned to the table, they were gone. I
looked to the right and left, and then in desperation, under the table.
The waiter
appeared and set a glass of wine down for me.
“Ma’am, are you MOV?” he inquired.
“Yes? Hey, do you know what happened to my
friends? Did they switch tables and go
outside?” I craned my neck to see the
patio section.
“No. They left.
They left $100, and said for you to have a very nice dinner on
them. What can I get for you?”
This was not
the first time Muse left me stranded …
MOV
