Putting the Madge in Danna
myself of the lace
encrusted polyester. “Pack it up and I’ll take it to my parents’
house. That’s where I’ll be getting dressed for the
wedding.”
    “ Greek wedding,” Margot
said.
    “ Yes.”
    “ I think one more fitting
and we make it perfect,” she added as she held the gown. “Sexy girl
might lose more weight from bang-bang.”
    “ All right, Margot,” I
replied. “But I doubt I’ll lose any more weight. I’m always hungry,
and Zeus isn’t in town, so, you know.” I pointed to my hooey and
made a sad face then I looked at her expression. Her eyebrows kind
of rose up in one of those oh,
really? poses. I hesitated at first. Could
I actually do this, I wondered? Then I smiled and before I could
stop myself I said, “Girl bang-bang?”
    “ Ya, ya. She bang it,”
Margot replied and laughed. I looked to my left then right like a
coconspirator – making sure no one else was around. I hated to
think a secret hidden camera was capturing any of this – and if it
were, then I’d have grounds to sue due to my nakedity.
    Margot covered her mouth with her hand as
though it embarrassed her to be attracted to me. I didn’t want her
to think I felt sexually harrassed by her interest, so I removed
it, gently, and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. When I moved
away, she remained eyes-closed lingering in the kiss as if it was
the kiss of life. That gave me the confidence I needed to
continue.
    “ You do great work,” I
said. “I can come back next Thursday for the last fitting, if that
works.”
    “ I check the book,” she
said. Margot rushed to get the appointment book by the desk and
moved her finger down the calendar. “Jasmine will be
here.”
    “ That’s great,” I said.
“I’ll bring my mom.”
    I think Margot seemed a bit saddened.
Perhaps she had thought our encounter had ended? That’s when I
asked her out.
    “ Are you hungry, by any
chance?”
    Margot and I ended up going to Tully’s
because she had wanted to watch some World Cup soccer game. I used
my credit card to buy the drinks, beer for me and seltzer water for
Margot. I tend to drink beer at sports bars. Let the venue fit the
alcoholic beverage, I always say, and Tully’s wasn’t exactly Ouzo
country.
    We had burgers and fries, but I couldn’t
stomach mine because I was so nervous. I wasn’t sure how to behave
on this date – would Margot expect more emotional talk? Would she
appreciate my knowledge of everything Madonna? Where would I find
common ground with her?
    As I kept drinking on a
fairly empty stomach, I stopped fussing once Margot became
engrossed in the soccer game, because the date became very similar
to a typical Sunday afternoon with Zeus. We watch a lot of soccer
on ESPN or live,
when Zeus plays a pick-up game with his college buddies or the guys
from church, you know, when he’s not in Japan or otherwise
traveling.
    Okay, so I got wasted. I plied myself with
drinks. Isn’t that what gay people did? I mean closeted gays,
naturally. I heard they tended to drink a lot due to their extreme
shame for liking same sex couplings so much. Or was that just
dudes? I don’t really know, I’m only going on hearsay from the
mouth of the always opinionated Kathy Duke-Dike. My apologies to
any of you closeted gays out there for my ignorance. I promise you,
I’m not a big drinker. I hope you don’t think badly of me. I do
care what you think, bloggers. It’s just that I had never done this
before, and I wasn’t sure I even wanted to go through with it until
I got hammered. Because the drunker I was, the more Margot became
Madonna.
    Margot helped me into her car. I was
borderline pukish at that point. Her little Hyundai sputtered about
and almost stalled a couple times. I think she didn’t do well with
stick shift. I imagine that’s because it is a phallic symbol. What
do you think?
    Holiday played on the radio. Another omen. It will
definitely be playing at my wedding. The Greek band can even do it
Greek-style. I sang

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