Angel Wings

The next night my girlfriends talked me into going to a Halloween party. I thought better than to wear my damaging dreadful blood stained wedding dress again and I lightened things up. This time I thought, hey, I will only know my girlfriends so I may as well go all out and to the other extreme. So headed back to the costume store and got a few essentials to my outfit that was coming together in my head quite nicely. I always find that I am great with a project. It helps me keep my mind focused and dedicated on one thing. That way it doesn’t stray off into the dismal abyss of hurt and pain and numbness. So back to the house to assemble the costume. I had bought a very short, very sexy, very inappropriate dress at one time to go out with HIM that never happened and it actually came in handy for my costume.
I put on the sparkly white sequence dress, very high, very hard to walk in white heels, my wings, my white eye lashes and my halo. That’s right. I went as sexy angel and I have to say I looked fantastic. I all of a sudden felt alive once I put that outfit on. I felt like every cell began to tingle and I was safe in my own sexual skin. I headed out the door and off to the party. We arrived together the four of us and into the house we went They really outdid themselves to put this party together. There were decorations, food a DJ. I love a good house party and I love that they loved Halloween. As the night went on we danced and chatted and I was introduced to lots of fun-loving people dressed as Freddy Crugar and cat in the hat and all sorts of fun and interesting things.
I started to get tired and my back hurt from the heels and I was feeling like I was ready to go when my girlfriends called me back onto the dance floor to meet their friend. He was dressed as a Pilot and looked remarkably like the singer Pit Bull. He was bald and slick and had a smile from ear to ear. He was funny and quick-witted and we hit it off pretty instantly. We chatted and danced and laughed and it was fun. I love meeting new people and this guy, seemed just genuinely nice. I could use a nice guy in my life I thought. As the night came to a close I went up to the host to say thank you and goodnight, but they told me I couldn’t leave yet. I didn’t understand why is was important I stay because I didn’t even know these people.
The next thing I know they were giving out awards. Actual awards for costumes. We sat through best dressed, most creative and then they call out Sexiest costume. I was barely paying attention when they called my name. I WON! I never win anything! I went up in front of the whole party, accepted my award graciously did a twirl and a bow and was elated at the thought that I still had it. Like Francis in Under the Tuscan Sun when she comes back from having sex with the beautiful Italian guy yelling at the top of her lungs “I still got it, I still got it” And I did…I just wasn’t sure what to do with it.
I left the party with one of the girls to go back to my car and the minute we closed the doors she said “The Pilot was hitting on you hard.” I didn’t even think anything of it. “He was?” I asked. Just because a man is funny and lively and attentive doesn’t necessarily mean he’s flirting, maybe he’s just a fun guy. I told her that I didn’t think so, but she insisted. She then told me to be wary of him, that he was a player and that that was the last thing I needed right now. I was curious as to the insistence of her to stay away from him. To the point that I wondered, was he really a player or did he just not want to play with her? I would soon get to the bottom of that question, but not tonight. Tonight I would revel in my award and feel sexy and alive and that was exactly what I needed. Time to turn 90 degrees to the right!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s