The first time I met Phoebe was the last month. That was the awful day, one of those when you hang out with the wrong man in a wrong place. The guy I was dating then was a real youth, Tom, twenty-three fucked-up photographer, who was actually very cute (the only reason I accepted his invitation for this party). When we met I realized that it was the worst mistake in my life. That was a common teen-party in a smoked underground club, where the music played so loud that I couldn’t even hear my thoughts. Everybody was in his careless twenty’s. Except me, of course. I could hardly see Tom through this smoke. He asked me loudly if I liked the place. Thumb-up.
We went to the table in the corner, thanks God, far from the dynamics. I was very surprised when found out some other people sitting there – just two guys and a girl which I heard a lot about. That was Phoebe, twenty-one writer, which seems to be very independent and smart. I saw her a couple of times somewhere, Henry, my closest friend, told that she used to change a boyfriend every week. ‘Read her last novel,’ he advised ‘It’s a good work’. I just sighed.
‘Hey there,’ Phoebe shouted, smiling friendly. The two guys just waved their hands as we were standing in a kilo or more. We sat down. Guys were drinking the beer. Tom, forgetting to ask me, brings some beer for us. Everything reminds the last circle of the hell. Phoebe, who seemed to be smart, was talking to the guys near her, continuing to smile. I was getting more and more angry. Tom was getting more and more happy. He hugged my shoulders and whispered that he should go to the rest room with that guys and take some cocks. Thumb-up again. I was agreed for everything.
And then suddenly some strange thing happened, ‘cause as soon as they went out of the dancing room Phoebe stopped smiling. The most surprising thing happened when she took my arm and said ‘Let’s get out of this, I beg you!’ I was so glad that stood up and ran out continuing to hold her had strong. We went out and then took a taxi to a restaurant in the city center. The only thing we wanted to get was the quietness. We reached a pretty one and took a bottle of champagne and some cheese. Actually Phoebe made the order while I was in the rest room, but I liked it anyway. ‘So what were you doing in that asshole?’ asked Phoebe lighting a cigarette. ‘Tom took me’ I sighed and light mine. ‘Dammit! These teen-parties are a real crap. That’s why I don’t visit ‘em usually’ explained she. The only reason she turned out there was that she tried to meet with one young actor, which used to be a real bitch. ‘Oh sweety, don’t date these actors’ I advised ending my fourth glass of champagne ‘They all suck’. She laughed and dropped a slice of Holland cheese. ‘I know but he’s really cutie. Actually now it doesn’t really matters, I’ll never attend this asshole again’.
We had drunk at least four bottles of this champagne. Then we took a taxi and went to Phoebe’s apartment to have some gin or vodka Martini. We were already so drunk that could just laugh and nothing else. She had two-roomed very trendy flat with cool French windows. We took glasses and set near the windows watching the night city. I felt myself as I was in the heaven. ‘Tom is a bitch. My friend’s cousin dated him’ told Phoebe. ‘Was he so bad?’ Phoebe sighed ‘Just awful sex’.
I was so drunk that Phoebe insisted on sleeping on the large white coach in the living room. Phoebe was sleeping in her charming bedroom in 50’s style. And Omigod that was the worst morning in my life. Phoebe felt herself better than me, but also very bad. ‘Hell oooh’ she told smiling. We drank some coffee and then I successfully returned to my apartment.