I wanted Adam. And not in an adult way. I wanted him the way you want your mommy when you skin your knee. I wanted him to make it all better. He believed in me. He believed in me so much, he would trust me to support him. I couldn’t imagine the horror of losing my job, because it would mean I was somehow broken and useless. I couldn’t lose Adam because it would mean the same thing. I wanted to be valued. I wanted to matter.

My voice was breaking when I called him. He promised to meet me out for a drink at Forbidden City. I thought, “Thank God. It looks like we just went through a rough patch. No biggie. Couples weather them all the time. It’s a mere blip, and now that I need him, he’s here for me.”

That evening, I walked inside Forbidden City and looked around the bar. The place was crowded, and there was no where to sit. I managed to squeeze in between patrons waiting to get served and I picked up the drink menu. My eyes were drawn immediately to a cocktail called A Moment of Romance. I didn’t care what was in it. As the bartender made eye contact with me and I leaned forward to place my order, I felt someone run their fingertip across my butt cheeks.

I jerked away from the bar and turned, but there was no one behind me. Ew. I felt like I needed a shower. What kind of skeeve would do that? I felt jumpy and anxious after that, and I couldn’t stop looking around for Adam while I gulped down my drink. A barstool opened up next to me, so I whisked my violated buns to safety by taking the seat. I picked up the drink menu again. The guava martini entitled Happy Together was looking inviting, so I ordered that.

I looked at my watch. Adam was a half hour late. I debated calling him. Nah, I wanted to play it cool. If he wasn’t there in the next fifteen minutes, then I would call. Forty-five minutes was officially Very Late, so I couldn’t possibly come off as a stalker for checking in at that stage. Happy Together slid down my throat in no time and I picked up the drink menu again. Better Tomorrow. I definitely needed a Better Tomorrow.

By the time I was holding my drink glass upside down over my face to catch the last drops of Better Tomorrow, it was time to call Adam to see where he was. I was feeling giddy as I dialed.

He picked up the phone and sounded impatient as he snapped, “Hello?”

“Oh hey, what’s going on!”

“Who’s this?”

“It’s Kelly! I’m at Forbidden City. Where are you?”

“Oh, right, Kelly. Hi, I’m sorry, I forgot. I’m actually at the airport waiting for my friend Reginald. His flight was delayed, but he should be landing any minute now.”

“Okay, no problem, I’ll just wait for you guys here then. You think you’ll be about an hour?”

“Yeah, sure, okay. I guess we didn’t really have anything planned for tonight anyway, so sure, we’ll just drop his stuff off at my place and come straight out.”

“Cool, see you soon!”

I had a good hour to ponder this. He forgot. How could he forget? I couldn’t stop thinking about him for thirty seconds, yet he actually managed to forget we had plans. This was not good. Not good at all. Where was that drink menu.

I was caught between wanting to order a drink that sounded ferocious, like The Killer, in an effort to remove the he-forgot torment from my system, or something that would calm me down, like In the Mood for Love. Maybe I had time for both. I’d start with The Killer, because it was a peach-flavored martini, and after all, Adam was a peach.

The drinks were really hitting me and it occurred to me, in a detached way, that I was getting quite drunk. I didn’t even know he had a friend coming to town. Why hadn’t he told me? Don’t you tell someone that you just had sex with when you have a friend coming to town? That seemed like big news to me. I realized that we really were drifting apart, and it wasn’t just my imagination.

Apart. Were we even together to begin with? It had all the signs of a whirlwind romance, but now it looks like it was just the first blush of a new relationship. A crush, really. A crush with good sex.

As I sat at the horseshoe-shaped bar waiting, a scene was developing across the way. An extremely inebriated chick ripped off her t-shirt. Now there she was, in a very small green bra with her large bosoms straining to get out, tattooed arms, and long black hair hanging down to her waist. She had a pretty orange flower tucked behind her ear. She was gyrating like a maniac, and those big boobs were bouncing everywhere.

Eventually the chick jumped up on the bar and was dancing like a stripper. I heard the sound of breaking glass, and then the bartender told her to get off the bar. Some male hands reached up to help her down. She continued her aerobic workout while all eyes in the bar stayed riveted on her performance. I ordered another drink and sipped while I watched the entertainment.

The hour passed surprisingly quickly and I wanted to go to the ladies room to check my hair and makeup before Adam arrived. I wasn’t crazy about giving up my barstool, but I felt it was more important to primp. Once in front of the mirror in the dim bathroom lighting, I saw that I looked awful. My pores looked big, my lips were chapped and my hair was flat against my head. All that drinking did not do a body good. I set about primping and preening, spackling and fluffing. It would do. I worried that my drunken make-up artist skills weren’t up to par, but I had already spent too much time in the bathroom already.

As I came back to the bar, I saw the back of Adam’s head about ten feet away. I smiled and snuck up behind him. I put my arm around his waist, peeked around to his face and said, “Hey, handsome!”

“Hey,” he said, and then turned back to the guy I assumed was his friend Reginald. I stood there waiting for him to introduce me, but they kept talking. I figured maybe they were in the middle of some important conversation. I listened in while I waited and realized they were talking about sports. I could not believe I was being ignored. Forgotten, and then ignored.

I recognized that I was about to have a booze-fueled freak out, and the safest thing to do was to remove myself from the situation before anything happened. I went outside and my hands shook as I called Terry to tell her what was going on. She said, “Kelly, it sounds like Adam probably hasn’t seen this guy in a long time. Let it go. Stand there politely and listen to their conversation, and I’m sure you’ll get introduced. But please, don’t bring on the crazy. Just calm yourself. And have a glass of water, you’re slurring.”

When I walked back in, I could not believe my eyes. Adam and Reginald were talking to the chick in the bra. I swear if she sneezed, her boobs would have exploded and taken out somebody’s eye. And then Adam would get boob shrapnel lodged in his brain. I briefly imagined his death scene before becoming incredibly angry. He could ignore me, but he would talk to the frigging BOOB GIRL? Oh, I was pissed.

I stomped up to him and dug my fingernails into his arm as I said, “You’re talking to her? Didn’t it mean anything to you when we had sex the other night?”

Adam jumped back and looked at me in fear. Genuine, adrenaline-fueled fear. Good, I thought. He should be afraid. I relished the only power I had over the situation and said, “And this is Reginald, I presume. I’m sure you’ve met BOOB GIRL here, but we haven’t met. Nope. No we have not met. Because Adam here hasn’t introduced us, though I’m sure the boob girl was given a proper introduction.” The boob girl’s eyes got very wide and she took a step backwards. I continued, “I’m sure you’ve even met her boobs by now, haven’t they, BOOB GIRL. I’d like to meet them, what are their names? Tom, Dick and Harry? You’ve got to have at least three of them in there.” She turned and walked away.

Adam looked disgusted. I said to him, “Oh, I’m sorry, did I cockblock? Did I get in the way of your conquest there? Good. You deserve it. You practically stood me up, and I’ve been sitting here alone drinking my face off for nine hours. Then you show up and blow me off. And now you’re talking to HER.” I couldn’t go on. I started sobbing. Through the snot and tears, I said, “Well you can forget it. You’re not coming home with me anymore. You had your chance.”

I stormed out of the bar and stood on the sidewalk. I needed to orient myself, because I had to figure out which way was home, but more importantly, I hoped that Adam would come outside after me. I blew my nose as I waited and pulled out my compact to check my make-up. I had streaks of mascara down both cheeks.

I was startled by a small scuffling noise in the bus shelter to my right. It was the boob girl, and she was pretending the upright post was a stripper pole. She tried to swing around it, but was stopped short by the glass.

I stifled a laugh and wiped the black tears from my cheeks as I walked home.

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