Mameha and a Stray Puppy

The way he danced was quite charming actually. Smooth moves, nicely done, nothing erratic, nothing too sassy, just (manly) enough to get my attention. He was pretty cute in the limelight, casually attired in t-shirts and jeans. After more than the half-a-year hiatus for me, nothing better than that would holla: Welcome back to Club Paradis. After all, he seemed to be alone there. Right in the middle of the dance floor. Darn you: a stray puppy in a circuit party!

Not too long ago an old acquaintance of mine, my brondong-jenius, started calling me Mameha for the obvious reasons. I am getting old, having my own place in certain society and before senilities had succeed in overtaking my sanity, I do have lots of tricks to share with younger upcoming geishas.

Last week however, my local grips were shaken (not stirred) by the arrival of another Mameha from the Philippines. Even though she was way older than me, however she was gorgeously smashing - due to her intense body and facial treatments. Her aura was glowing with “My name is Voulez-vous-couchez avec-moi-ce-soir and you are who?” written all over her forehead. You’d never guess that she held a PhD somewhere in her pedigree. Yet she insisted to drag me to this circuit party in town at the lowest point in my life. Yes, hubby just left me two weeks ago in my 32nd week of pregnancy. I felt fat and old and unwanted.

It boy stray-puppy finally looked back in my direction. He gave a warm smile prior to approaching us. Darn, darn, darn it. I thought the printed flowing short dress that Ulli (from Project Runway 3) made for me worked splendidly. “Boleh kenalan?” not surprisingly, he made a gesture to the Filipino Mameha. After several attempts, I finally told it boy: “Darling, he doesn’t speak Indonesian… better use other lingua-franca if you really want to get inside her panties”

We went to a street hawker afterward, translating back and forth, his English was darn awful. All I remember was when Curtsy, the other Mameha asked: “What do you do?”. It boy was answering: “I go to a mall today and I buy some things from supermarket”. Although I was licking my wound, I secretly thank God that I didn’t have to bring it boy home. Crushed but yet helped them secure a deal I did. The next morning both of them expressed their gratitude for my help and how they both enjoyed each other very well.

About a week later for the lack of having a man to hug, I became horny as hell. I thought of it boy immediately, as long as I can make sure that there will not be any conversations involved, I should be fine. So messaged him I did. He replied: “I’m home just listening to music. Wanna chat? Call me at home at this number…”. Surprisingly I managed to have an hour-long conversations about his life (the trick to get an it boy felt adored: just talk about him). We made a deal to have dinner later on.

I felt so sad after talking with him. He just wasted his entire life for nothing. Halfway educated, no career to be proud of, still in a school abroad learning English (while he’s approaching 30 in a couple of years). Too much partying can actually do damage on one’s life. Even in Bahasa Indonesia, we still couldn’t understand each other very well.

Met him later on, I brought my self a bunch of friends in case any conversation should go awry. And it happened. His jokes weren’t funny, he mumbled a lot. So much for the pretty face and nothing between his ears. He was introduced to another group of friends. Someone there were willing to take him home asap.

Gave him my good byes, it was late already. He asked politely, “Are we gonna meet again later tonight somewhere?”. I said no, since I was really tired. Letting him went out with that other hot guy made me feel defeated (again). But then again maybe I didn’t state my case clearer anyway.

Stupidly not only that I felt sorry for him (for people who’d laugh behind his back and only wanted him to be their sex-toy), I kinda felt like taking him under my wings. Yes, I do want to sleep with him as well, let’s not be naïve on that. But furthermore, I dunno why I felt like taking care of him, my own stray puppy.

I’m mellow and pregnant with a dead-beat hubby. Maybe it’s the maternity talking.