Monsters “Do you meet everyone who messages you?” She mumbled, curiously looking at the piece of lime inside my glass, the one I was trying to crush with my stirrer so it would blend it with that bitter Bombay Sapphire. I do not know why I ordered that gin at the first place, I am a Tanqueray guy, I always drink that one particular brand even though most claim Bombay Sapphire is much better. My brother tells me I am just obsessed with that green bottle, like I was with Sprite when I was a kid. Maybe he is right, I do not know, maybe I am more possessed with the appearance and not the content, just like I was with the women in my life, like the current one I share my bed with. “No” I heard my own voice reverberating for a long time. I had been drinking since 6 o’clock and now it was close to ten. The pretty bartender at Bar Congress kept filling my glass as I constantly thought about how my boss would react when he reads the statement of that green American Express. I was tanked, and I planned on drinking more for no apparent reason. I was flying back the next day, Saturday, and I was planning on sleeping in till late on Sunday and I would frequently hydrate myself and get rid of that 100 dollar hangover. You see - I am a meticulous planner even when drunk. “I am not that bad of a whore Aparna, I just talk to random females, I just talk, and flirt a little, but they cease to appear for me the moment I log off that website. And some woman in sajha chat called me a womanizer I hear. Why thank you, another feather on my narcissist hat I suppose. Seriously, if I really wanted to get laid, that damn website is the last place I’d visit” “So what is so special about me that you wanted to meet up” Her crossed her leg, leaned back on her chair and cautiously sipped that cosmopolitan. Her bare biceps, which were beautifully tanned in the Austin sun and weren't enveloped by a beige figure hugging Talbots dress, perfectly blended with the soft illumination of the bar. I knew she did yoga, what I didn’t know, was that she lifted weights too. I blinked. I had been talking to this woman for last three hours and I failed to realize until now how beautiful she was. She spoke with authority, with confidence, her soft voice emanated warmth and support and an arcane benevolence. She was a blend of every possible woman I had ever imagined were classy, Mae West, Waheeda Rahman, Meryl Streep, you name it. “You restore my sanity” I stopped drinking and looked directly into her eyes “Your emails speak volumes, your jokes are never old, your interests align with mine and you are an epitome of one complete female, I hate to be a stupid emotional fool Aparna, but you had me at hello” I shamelessly plagiarized that line from Jerry McGuire, and instantly started laughing. She just smiled and looked at me for a long time, maybe I did see a drop of tear somewhere inside those big brown eyes, maybe she hadn’t watched that Tom Cruise classic, but then how couldn’t she? She was a brilliant Longhorn grad, knew everything under the sun, and hid her identity from fellow Nepalese in Austin despite working as a manager at Hoover’s. I’d be extremely disappointed if she hadn’t seen Jerry McGuire. She had been a phantom behind her computer all that time frequenting sajha.com until one night she sent me a message at my sajha inbox. The message was short “behoove, you confuse me” It sounded more like a plea, like a damsel in distress begging for an orgasm, and as a good Samaritan, I was readily available for any assistance. And then it had started.  We texted, emailed and called each other for a year when my boss finally decided to let me meet her, he sent me to Austin for a four day training, and I couldn’t have asked for a better time. “Bar Congress at 7:00pm” she had told me over the phone “And I will pay for my drink” Anticipation is one of the greatest feelings ever experienced by mankind. It nurtures your thoughts, prepares you, and keeps you ecstatic throughout a span of time about a certain event even when the chances of its faring well are next to none. I sometimes think what I find more pleasure in? Anticipating to meet someone or just simply meeting someone. Most of the time it was the anticipating part that took the cake and events much awaited were mere duds. But it was different with Aparna, our meeting, decked with profound questionnaires about life and emotions were already a big hit long exceeding the expectations we both had with each other.  I had anticipated all these, the drink, the lights, the clinking sound of ice, some laughs in the far corner and a languish jazz coming off the invisible ceiling speaker. And then I had anticipated more, her primal moans on a plush Westin bed, where with her mouth wide open she held my head, savoring every nanosecond of pleasure as my mouth embedded at the orifice between her legs. “One more please, and I will call it a night” Her voice startled me off my reverie. I looked at her, she was talking to the bartender. “So why do you visit sajha.com when you think it is a clusterf$%k” I asked. “Because that chaos makes me believe I still am a Nepalese” she sipped her drink her little and rubbed her lips together. “But you never write anything, isn’t that hideous?” I asked again “It is a free site, who the hell cares, I just go there to read asinine posts that makes me believe we as Nepalese haven’t evolved much” “And why don’t you visit there often? I never see you write, except once every few months?” She questioned in return. “I visit sajha chat during days” My voice became feeble as I replied. “Ah, and talk to women I believe” she chuckled. Yes I did.  I nodded. Then I told her what the contents of the chats were, stale jokes, music, movies and photography, some politics, some weird females who struggle to type well and talk as if they are on meth, with who I flirt, and with who everyone flirts, then there are talks about sex, and we privately message one another and talk. I almost felt bad for myself as I had finished explaining that. “You are a monster” She laughed. “What do you mean?” I squinted. “Sajha chat has built a monster within you, something you cannot get rid of. You go there to flirt with those women despite married.” She said smiling. “But poor you, women are bigger bitches to be talking to you guys yet they consider themselves prudes and make you only blame yourselves, what a pity” She laughed again. She was spot on. There were some females who came to flirt, feigning their sacrosanct self and logging in all day just to hear someone call them ‘darling’. Some were married, some knew others were married, but they flirted beyond bounds. I looked down at the drink I was holding, unable to speak. She had just told me the facts that I had hidden long from myself. I felt humiliated, and defeated. “I think I am gonna leave Aparna, I need to sleep well before the flight tomorrow” I spoke without looking at her. She looked at me for a long time as I struggled to maintain eye contact with her. “Okay, if this makes you feel better then listen, you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself, just because I stated the fact doesn’t mean you didn’t know about it or are a bad person. You have no idea what I do, I sleep with random men, actually I slept with three men this month, but I am careful not to sleep with Nepalese people because I still remember how my ex-boyfriend bragged about scoring to his friends after he slept with me, I know I am stereotyping, but heck,  all Nepalese suck. And they suck bad.” She chugged the remains of her drink. “But I am one too” I retorted. “No, you my dear behoove, are just confused” She smiled, leaned forward, and kissed me on my cheek gently. Which meant – time to say goodbye. As we walked out, she held my hand. I fumbled through my pocket to find my keys. “…shouldn’t drive when drunk” she said smiling. I nodded. “I am not driving either, let’s leave our cars here, we can pick it up tomorrow” I stood nonplussed as she reached out for a cab. She opened the rear door of the cab as she ushered me and then climbed in, sitting next to me, my Armani blending with her Estee Lauder, does that how musk smells like? The latter? “Where are you staying behoove?” She asked “Westin” I answered almost inaudibly, my head was spinning. “Westin please….” She told the cab driver. And the last thing I remember on that cab was the rear view mirror where the young black driver was looking at us as our lips locked fervently. He was looking at two monsters. Last edited: 21-Feb-14 08:36 AM