Girls’ Night Out! "Forkin' Ice-O!" muttered Mareea, my Bolivian friend at the disappearing back of a guy who had just joined our table. Mareea (Bolivian), Katerina (Swedish), Karen (Carribean) and I had finally decided to go out for dinner and drinks one Saturday. It had been a while since we had met and after a sound warning from each of them, I agreed to give up my blue jeans-white Tshirt-Gap-look and wear a little black dress. So, off I went clippity clopping in high heels to meet my girl friends, all dressed in black like the witches of Harry Potter. After a good Thai dinner of "coconut milk in everytiiing" as my Carribean friend said, we had trudged on to the nearest bar for a drink. Barely seated, a guy had lurched toward our table and with a crooked, goofy smile said hello. "Are you O gay?!!!" said a concerned Mareea in a heavy Spanish accent. The guy blinked at her and we blinked at both. "Exscooose me, are you O gay?!" repeated Mareea, looking around. We understood and burst into a peal of laughter, while the poor guy, offended, flustered and humiliated went into a stream of obscenities at poor Mareea and left. Then, it hit her, she meant to say, "Are You Okay?!" He had heard what we had heard. "Whaaa, Chitara, you haav a problen wi mai aaccen?!" she shot at me. "Not I, he did!" I laughed. After an uneventful rest of the evening, we decided to go to my apt for a glass of wine. "Okay, let's talk about irrational fears!" said a tipsy Katerina. For some odd reason she had adopted a soft Southern drawl after landing in the US 8 years ago although I still teased her about her SVedish accent with a "My naime is Iinnnga! Yaah??!' Mareea said, "Ho K you go go firrs" to Karen. Karen took a big gulp of her wine and confessed "I'll never marry a black man or a Carribean man; Nona dose for me!" Shocked, we stared at Karen's beautiful face; her features perfect, like an artistic hand had swept over her chocolate mocha colored skin. "No! I'll marry a white man or go Gay!!! My first Carribean love left me for a Fat, Fat, Fat white woman... dey have an insatiable desire for white skin!" Ok, I said, let's drink to that! Katerina's turn, "You'll laugh. But my biggest fear is that on my wedding night, my old couch will start talking! I tell you, it will jinx my wedding. I'm going to give it to Good Will before I get married!' We burst out laughing. I almost choked on my wine. "Hokey, Chitara, yur tun." "Well, it's silly... I never buy Lottery tickets... I’m afraid I'LL WIN!" I said. "WHAT????!!!!" said all three. Sheepishly, I explained "Yah, Well, I wouldn't know what to do with all that money... I'll be so worried, I'll lose sleep over it... My life will change. It's not worth it for me! So, to save myself all that trouble, I don't buy lottery tickets at all/haven't at all!". "Heee, haaaaw, haaw, ha ha ha!" went all my friends. I didn't know if it was the wine or the company. "Ok, Ok, Mareea's turn" I diverted the attention. Mareea looked hard at me, took a sip and said, " I HATE your Cultoor, Chitara!!" "What?!" I said in disbelief. "Ya, I fell in lowv wi an India guy. He promis, we marrie for two yerrs an den, he wen to India and got arrain(ged) marry! Forkin baastar! and I stil caaan('t) get overr him." We fell silent, we all remembered that she had the hardest time picking up the pieces. I poured her some wine and lightly asked, "and your irrational fear?" Mareea's face brightened, "I am afrai, I'll fall in lowve wi aaanotherr India Guy! I pray an I pray!" We all smiled. Mareea was a good sport, with a good heart and a captivating smile and naughty, naughty wicked eyes. That night we just lolled around, happy with easy camaraderie but each one of locked in our own private reverie. My irrational fear, I mused but could not blurt out was " I have a fear of marriage!" After having tiptoed and tap danced around it for so long, I still remember my last proposal... the one (and only) I made on an impulse to a dear friend "Marry me! AFTER TWO years!" I gagged, and then he gagged! Then we both had started laughing uncontrollably. Then, I tried to explain... I don't know what... that I was not ready right THEN, or that he was still Immature THEN... that he would grow up after two years or that I would. Then, it became a private joke between us. Honestly, But I Still don't know why I blurted out such an absurdity. ~*~ Five years later, Mareea is missing in action, somewhere in Canada; Katerina has two babies and living in the far far East, the offending couch, broken after much wear and tear, was was last seen in a dump truck; Karen is in Boston pursuing her Phd, divorced x 2 and I, got married, after warning him I have a marriage phobia. He proposed. I took a deep breath and dived headlong into it. Marriages don't come with life jackets and instruction manuals. It's a scary thought. My mom used to say, one can predict a birth but none can predict death or marriage "tyasmathi, aajkaal ka KT harroo dherai sochera, bicharera, Jotish lai pani gari khanoo didainan iniharoo ley!"