Curious Life of Frieda Leigh
Upon leaving the restaurant, Tim turned to face her. He pressed his hand to his chest and began in the most solemn tone he could muster. “I’m sorry. When I asked you out, I wasn’t expecting this,” he said gesturing to her attire. “I was looking forward to having dinner with a slightly freakish and frazzled around the edges Frieda, not Lady Gaga.” He could see her brown eyes hidden by globs of mascara begin to soften into sadness. “Maybe we can do coffee again sometime.”
“Coffee?” Frieda asked.
“Yes. Coffee,” he repeated sternly.
“Look, I didn’t do this. This is not me,” she defended. “A friend gave me a makeover.”
“A friend? No friend makes another look like a scrubber.” He immediately waved off the last comment. “Sorry. I’ll call you,” he said as he walked away.
“Wait! You never asked for my number!” she shouted after him, but her words came up empty. She was ditched outside one of the most romantic restaurants in the city. Fortunately, she was only blocks away from her flat.
On the walk home, she felt like a whore who had too many Johns and she didn’t even have sex. Her thoughts swirled into a whirlpool of self-degrading soul punches. “This is why I don’t date real men.”
She stumbled up the steps of her building and stomped in her platform heels until she reached the safety of her sanctuary where she buried her head in sobs. Her body heaved heavily, as she walked toward her bathroom. At first glance she saw what Tim did. “Holy shit. What did I do? What did I let Lourdes do?” She swore she felt like a supermodel before the date, now she couldn’t sell her services for ten dollars.
“Honey, what you need is a hot bath and a glass of wine,” he said to her as he leaned against the doorway.
She turned and buried her head against Wilhelm’s chest. “I can’t believe I was so stupid. What a fool I made of myself. He’s never going to want to see me again.” She raised her head and brushed passed him en route to the kitchen. “Heck, I’m going to have to start shopping at another grocery store. I just don’t know how I’ll show my face again.”
“Seriously, if he can’t see your beautiful soul through makeup, he’s not worth it,” Wilhelm replied trailing behind her. He rested his hands on her shoulders, pressing himself against her back. “And why would you want him anyway? Who is he? You can do so much better.” He turned her around to face him. “You have me. You don’t need another man.”
Frieda sighed. “I know. “Who wants a shallow man.” She pulled away from him and opened the refrigerator door, searching for the bottle of chardonnay. She grabbed the neck of the bottle and as she closed the door, Wilhelm disappeared, and Sergei stood before her.
“He’s a dead man,” he said rubbing his fists together.
Gulping the wine straight from the bottle, she visualized Tim’s beaten face. Certainly, she didn’t want him dead. The cops may be able to trace it back to her, but if he were to accidently trip into Sergei’s fist, that’s a thought.
“This jerk has been enraging you from day one. First, he harasses you at the store and then ditches you. I mean, this made-for-mincemeat-man can’t make up his mind. He deserves a good beating.” Sergei reached for the bottle of chardonnay from Frieda and downed the whole thing in one shot.
“Hey selfish save some for the crying woman,” Frieda said, taking the empty bottle from him.
With the empty bottle in her hand she looked around her kitchen, seeing Wilhelm standing by the stove, stewing over her pink, pig shaped kettle. “Wine will only make you feel worse. I suggest some nice lavender chamomile tea and a nice warm eucalyptus compress.”
She set the wine bottle on the counter and reached in the freezer for a pint of ice cream. “Sorry guys, I know you’re trying to help, but what this girl needs now is Ben and Jerry.”
With the pint of ice cream in one hand and a spoon in the other, she walked into the living room finding Jai meditating naked on her couch. She plopped down beside him.
He let out a loud roaring sigh. “Lion’s breath, or the breath of fire to relieve all your tensions.”
“How about I stop breathing and just die here,” she said digging into her ice cream.
She took a bite of the ice cream and the coldness immediately froze her brain. “Ouch. Shit!” she screamed wincing. When her head stopped aching she realized she was alone, very alone. There was no one here to run her a hot bath and cuddle with on the couch, no one to fight her battles and no one to ease her tensions. She was all by herself in having to face the complete tosser she made of herself tonight.
“Coffee?” Frieda asked.
“Yes. Coffee,” he repeated sternly.
“Look, I didn’t do this. This is not me,” she defended. “A friend gave me a makeover.”
“A friend? No friend makes another look like a scrubber.” He immediately waved off the last comment. “Sorry. I’ll call you,” he said as he walked away.
“Wait! You never asked for my number!” she shouted after him, but her words came up empty. She was ditched outside one of the most romantic restaurants in the city. Fortunately, she was only blocks away from her flat.
On the walk home, she felt like a whore who had too many Johns and she didn’t even have sex. Her thoughts swirled into a whirlpool of self-degrading soul punches. “This is why I don’t date real men.”
She stumbled up the steps of her building and stomped in her platform heels until she reached the safety of her sanctuary where she buried her head in sobs. Her body heaved heavily, as she walked toward her bathroom. At first glance she saw what Tim did. “Holy shit. What did I do? What did I let Lourdes do?” She swore she felt like a supermodel before the date, now she couldn’t sell her services for ten dollars.
“Honey, what you need is a hot bath and a glass of wine,” he said to her as he leaned against the doorway.
She turned and buried her head against Wilhelm’s chest. “I can’t believe I was so stupid. What a fool I made of myself. He’s never going to want to see me again.” She raised her head and brushed passed him en route to the kitchen. “Heck, I’m going to have to start shopping at another grocery store. I just don’t know how I’ll show my face again.”
“Seriously, if he can’t see your beautiful soul through makeup, he’s not worth it,” Wilhelm replied trailing behind her. He rested his hands on her shoulders, pressing himself against her back. “And why would you want him anyway? Who is he? You can do so much better.” He turned her around to face him. “You have me. You don’t need another man.”
Frieda sighed. “I know. “Who wants a shallow man.” She pulled away from him and opened the refrigerator door, searching for the bottle of chardonnay. She grabbed the neck of the bottle and as she closed the door, Wilhelm disappeared, and Sergei stood before her.
“He’s a dead man,” he said rubbing his fists together.
Gulping the wine straight from the bottle, she visualized Tim’s beaten face. Certainly, she didn’t want him dead. The cops may be able to trace it back to her, but if he were to accidently trip into Sergei’s fist, that’s a thought.
“This jerk has been enraging you from day one. First, he harasses you at the store and then ditches you. I mean, this made-for-mincemeat-man can’t make up his mind. He deserves a good beating.” Sergei reached for the bottle of chardonnay from Frieda and downed the whole thing in one shot.
“Hey selfish save some for the crying woman,” Frieda said, taking the empty bottle from him.
With the empty bottle in her hand she looked around her kitchen, seeing Wilhelm standing by the stove, stewing over her pink, pig shaped kettle. “Wine will only make you feel worse. I suggest some nice lavender chamomile tea and a nice warm eucalyptus compress.”
She set the wine bottle on the counter and reached in the freezer for a pint of ice cream. “Sorry guys, I know you’re trying to help, but what this girl needs now is Ben and Jerry.”
With the pint of ice cream in one hand and a spoon in the other, she walked into the living room finding Jai meditating naked on her couch. She plopped down beside him.
He let out a loud roaring sigh. “Lion’s breath, or the breath of fire to relieve all your tensions.”
“How about I stop breathing and just die here,” she said digging into her ice cream.
She took a bite of the ice cream and the coldness immediately froze her brain. “Ouch. Shit!” she screamed wincing. When her head stopped aching she realized she was alone, very alone. There was no one here to run her a hot bath and cuddle with on the couch, no one to fight her battles and no one to ease her tensions. She was all by herself in having to face the complete tosser she made of herself tonight.
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