They both immediately fanned themselves. Benjamin was the one guy we all agreed on. Whenever we’d plied Jillian with enough liquor, we’d confess our crush to her and make her tell us stories about him. If we were lucky and had managed to get an extra martini into her…well, let’s just say it was nice to know sex continued to be worth doing even after your man was well into his forties. The one about Benjamin and the Tonga Room at the Fairmont Hotel? Wow. She was a lucky woman.
“That’ll be cool. Why don’t we come over and get ready at your place, like the old days?” Mimi squealed as Sophia and I plugged our ears.
“Yes, yes, that’s fine, but no more squealing or we’ll leave your ass with the bill,” Sophia scolded as Mimi settled back into her seat, eyes sparkling.
After lunch, Mimi walked toward her next appointment around the corner, and Sophia and I shared a cab.
“So, naughty dreams about your neighbor. Let’s hear it,” she began, to the great delight of the cab driver.
“Eyes on the road, sir,” I instructed as I caught him looking at us in the rear view mirror.
I let my thoughts drift to the dreams, which had come every night for the past week. I, on the other hand, had not—ratcheting up my sexual frustration to a critical point. When I could ignore the O, I was okay. Now that I was treated to dreams of Simon every night, O’s absence was even more pronounced. Clive had taken to sleeping on top of the dresser, safer with my flailing legs, you see.
“The dreams? The dreams are good, but he’s such an ass**le!” I exclaimed, thumping my fist on the door.
“I know. That’s what you keep saying,” she added, looking at me carefully.
“What? What is that look?”
“Nothing. Just looking at you. You’re awfully worked up over someone who’s an ass**le,” she said.
“I know.” I sighed, looking out the window.
“You’re poking me.”
“I am not.”
“Seriously, what the hell is in your pocket, Mimi? Are you packing?” Sophia exclaimed, jerking her head away as Mimi pressed the curling iron through her hair.
I smiled from my place on the bed, lacing up my sandals. I’d put my own hair up in rollers before the girls got here, so I’d been spared the full treatment. Mimi fancied herself some kind of beauty school dropout, and if she could’ve opened a shop in her bedroom, she’d have given it some careful thought.
Mimi produced a brush from her pocket and showed it to Sophia before starting to tease. With the brush, that is.
We were pre-partying just like we did at Berkeley, right down to the frozen daiquiris. Although we’d upgraded to the good alcohol and freshly squeezed lime juice, it still made us a little hyper and slaphappy.
“Come on, come on—you never know who you might meet tonight! You don’t want to meet Prince Charming with flat hair, do you?” Mimi reasoned as she forced Sophia to flip her hair over to “get some lift at the crown.” You didn’t argue—you just let her do it.
“I’m not flat anywhere. If these girls are on display, Prince Charming won’t even notice I have hair,” Sophia muttered, which sent me into another gale of giggles. Then over our laughter, I heard voices from next door. I got up off the bed and went closer to the wall where I could hear better. This time instead of just Simon, there were two other distinctly male voices. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but suddenly Guns N’ Roses came blaring through the walls loud enough to make Sophia and Mimi stop what they were doing.
“What the hell is that?” Sophia snapped, looking wildly around the room.
“Simon’s a GN’R fan, I guess.” I shrugged, secretly enjoying being welcomed to the jungle. I put a headband low on my forehead and did Axl’s crab dance back and forth, much to the delight of Mimi and the scorn of Sophia.
“No, no, no—that’s not it, fool,” Sophia scolded over the music and grabbed another headband. Mimi screamed with laughter as Sophia and I Axl-battled. Until, of course, Sophia started to mess up her hair. Then Mimi lunged. Sophia jumped on the bed to get away from her, and I joined her. We jumped up and down, shrieking the lyrics now and dancing wildly. Mimi finally gave in, and all three of us danced like mad fools. I started to feel the bed moving underneath us, and I realized it was banging merrily against the wall—Simon’s wall.
“Take that! And that! And a little of…that! No one’s banging on my walls, huh? Hahahahaha!” I shrieked crazily as Mimi and Sophia watched in amazement. Sophia climbed off the bed, and she and Mimi clutched each other as they laughed and I thumped. I rocked back and forth like I was surfing, driving my headboard into the wall again and again.
The music cut off suddenly, and I dropped like I’d been shot. Mimi and Sophia clasped their hands over each other’s mouths while I lay flat on the bed, biting my own knuckle to keep from laughing. The frenzy in the room was like when you got caught TP-ing someone’s house, or laughing in the back of church. You couldn’t stop, and you couldn’t not stop.
Bang bang bang.
No way. He was banging at me?
Bang bang bang.
He was banging at me…
Bang bang bang! I gave as good as I got. I couldn’t believe he had the balls to try to get me to quiet down. I heard male voices chuckling.
Bang bang bang came once more, and my temper flared.
Oh, he really was an ass**le…
I looked at the girls incredulously, and they jumped back on the bed with me.
Bang bang bang bang we pounded, six furious fists raining down on the plaster.
Bang bang bang bang came back to us—much, much louder this time. His boys must have gotten in on the action.
“Give it up, mister! No sex for you!” I yelled at the wall as my girls cackled maniacally.
“Tons of sex for me, sister. None for you!” he yelled all too clearly through the wall.
I raised my fists to bang once more. Bang bang ba-bang bang rang out from my side.
Bang bang! A single fist answered back, and then all was silent.
“Oooohhhhh!” I screamed at the wall, and I could hear Simon and his boys laughing.
Mimi, Sophia, and I stared wide-eyed at each other until we heard a tiny sigh from behind us.
We turned to see Clive sitting on the dresser. He stared back at us, sighed again, and proceeded to lick his bum.
“The nerve, I mean, the mother-loving nerve of that guy! He has the balls to actually bang on my wall, on my wall? I mean, God what an—”