“Bonsoir,” the barman said. My French wasn’t that bad that I didn’t know what that meant.
“Good evening to you too,” I said back politely, while peering into the basket.
“You know you are wanted by the police?” he said, polishing two glasses for us. “Fugitives from the law.”
“Really?” I asked.
He placed the glasses down in front of us and instead of producing a tequila bottle, produced a large jug of water. “But don’t worry, I covered for you. I said I had no idea who you were. I told him you were probably just crazy Americans!”
“And did they believe you?” Alex asked, pouring me a glass of water.
“Of course! Everyone knows Americans are crazy.” He smiled at us and leaned in across the table. “So, what’s next?” he asked, looking down at the magazine that Alex had put on the bar counter once again.
“Hey, how do you know what we’re doing?” I asked, sipping the cool lemon-flavored water and grabbing for a piece of bread.
“Oh, I told him,” Alex said. “Hope you don’t mind?”
I shrugged. “You know my most embarrassing moment on Earth and I don’t even know your name?”
“Julian.” He extended his hand and I shook it.
“Val,” I said to him and he nodded.
“So what do you think of this picture?” Alex asked, holding his phone up for Julian to see. “Does it scream ‘over you’?”
Julian pulled his own phone out. “What are your social media names?”
“On Facebook I’m Alex Fletcher and on Instagram DrFletcher,” he said.
“And you?” Julian asked me.
I gave Julian all my relevant details and within seconds we were all friends. Julian looked at our pictures thoughtfully and started nodding. “So over them!” he declared. “So, what’s next?” he asked again, gesturing at the magazine.
Alex cleared his throat, flipped the magazine open and started reading.
“ ‘Number Five. Bitch About Bae. That irritating thing he did in bed which he thought you liked, but you didn’t! The way he always insisted that corduroy was having a comeback and his pants were fine to wear out, the way he sat on the sofa in his boxers with his leg up, so his one ball dangled out and rubbed against the communal seating area. The way he got toothpaste on the sink and you had to scrub it off when it dried and went hard. The way he left used floss out, farted in his sleep, snored, said ‘Dear Lordy-Lord’ when he came . . . take your pick. The point is, rip him off that pedestal with your girlfriends. Remember all the bad, irritating and hurtful things he did (don’t leave anything out).’ ”
There was a collective pause after Alex had finished reading. We all looked at each other for a few moments, and then Alex and I began shaking our heads and laughing.
“Okay, well that one is just ridiculous!” I said, stuffing some nuts into my mouth. “And I can’t even pass comments on things like what he did in bed . . . Well,” I pondered, “actually, sometimes I could hear them through the walls of my apartment, and he did make a rather strange sound when he came, at least, I think he was coming.”
“Wait!” Alex held his hand up. “You did not tell me he was your actual next-door neighbor.”
Julian shook his head. “Had you told me that the other night, I might have made you the winner.”
“Wait! Let’s not jump the gun here,” Alex piped up. “My ex lives in the same building as me, with another guy! That counts too.”
“But I can hear them having sex through the walls,” I quickly added. “And let me just say, she likes him to ride her like a thoroughbred Arabian horse.”
Both Alex and Julian recoiled at the image I’d just painted.
“I’m not joking, the other night she said, and I quote, ‘Yes! Oooh, yes, baby, yes, ride me like an Arabian horse, baby. Giddy-up! Yes, like a thoroughbred.’ ”
“You guys’ lives are seriously messed up.” Julian turned and produced another bottle of tequila. “I was going to suggest you stay off the hard stuff tonight, but it looks like you might need it again.”
“Thanks,” we said in unison, taking the bottle from him.
“It’s all part of the healing process,” I exclaimed quickly, just in case he thought we were alcoholics. “The post-breakup drunken bender. Everyone does it. At least it’s not crack.” I laughed at my own joke.
