Cheryl Tan - Sarong Party Girls

Although I still wasn’t fully convinced, I lifted my glass and smiled at Sher. I’d have to think about this a bit more but for now, sitting in the Shang, a glass of champagne in my hand, I really missed my old friend. I really missed our moments like this.

“Cheers,” Sher said—my god, her eyes were watering a bit and all. I figured I’d better fasterly change the subject before this turned into a Taiwanese soap opera.

“So,” I said, sounding a bit serious—which I was. “I don’t want you to worry. But something happened.”

Sher’s face got damn serious. Obviously, Sher was now worrying like crazy. Since I almost never begin any conversations like that.

“Are you sick?” she said, grabbing my knee.

“Aiyoh, my god—no!” I said. “Hallo, auntie, sometimes there are worse things than cancer and shit, OK! No, no, no. Just… there was this weird situation with this guy, and I couldn’t say no, I really couldn’t, and now I just feel damn…” I didn’t even know how to finish my sentence. But I looked over at Sher and I could see that she understood perfectly.

Sher looked concerned. She sighed and took a long sip, then waved her index finger over at the nice waiter and made the “two” sign. The guy jumped up and brought his tray over, lowering it so we could pick up fresh glasses.

“Are you OK?” Sher asked, looking worried. “Do you like this guy?”

“No! I mean, it’s not that I don’t like him… I just don’t, I mean…” Aiyoh, this one I really didn’t know how to explain. If I say too much, Sher knows me and the group so well, she confirm will guess it’s Louis. And if I know Sher, she will insist on me doing the right thing and telling Imo about it. And if Imo knows then Louis will know. And the whole world will just go to shit. No more clubbing in atas clubs, no more VIP lounges and free drinks.

“I mean,” I said, “it’s just awkward and weird and nothing can happen between us but I keep thinking about it and…” I realized I was probably explaining it terribly. The way I was talking about it, I could see Sher possibly guessing that I’m a bit embarrassed and maybe lovesick. My god, that confirm is not the case!

Sher smiled. “Jazzy, don’t tell me you don’t remember the last-penis theory!” she said.

Wah, this one is confirm misunderstanding. Last-penis theory is for when you really like the guy and you cannot forget him, pining pining for him, that kind of thing. We had read it in some ang moh magazine years ago lah and at first we laughed like crazy over it but then, it turned out, there’s probably some truth to it. The theory is that the one thing that can help you forget the guy is if you pok someone else—the new penis in your life, even if you’re not a serious relationship, as long as it’s a fun fun one, confirm can help push the last penis you had out of your mind.

I started to say something to correct Sher like, no, really, I’m not in love or anything. But then I thought—actually, maybe she has a point. It doesn’t matter how I feel about Louis. If I can’t stop imagining him in my bed, then maybe…

“True, true,” I said, winking at Sher. Come, I said, looking at my phone to see what time it was. “Bottoms up!”

Sher didn’t walk all the way out with me because she was going to rejoin Keira and the girls. Before she left though, she gave me a hug—one I didn’t want at first but feeling her arms fiercely wrapped around me, my chest started to hurt. I hugged her back.

When Sher started to let go, she asked, “Are you still happy at work?”

I paused, wondering what to say. That flicker of silence was enough for Sher to understand.

“Ah,” she said. “Listen—Ah Huat really could use a business manager at his place, someone to help him keep things running so he can focus on the classes.”

I pulled away from Sher, trying to stop myself from making a face. It had been such a nice moment—why did she have to spoil it with such nonsense? Yes, I was coming around to accepting that maybe it wasn’t complete craziness that she had married this Ah Beng—but I sure as hell was never going to lower myself to work for him even so. Jazzy here has a good job with an atas boss! To leave that and work for an Ah Beng? Her husband can go and dream!

“OK, OK,” Sher quickly said. “Forget I mentioned it, OK? But, if you ever…”

“I’m fine—don’t worry,” I said, giving her hand a quick squeeze. “Now go—the girls will be waiting for you.”

As I watched her walk back to the restaurant, away from me, I thought about our chat; the feeling of Sher sitting next to me again, two girls laughing.

Something very strange happened on Thursday.

The week had passed by quite peacefully at work—nothing more mentioned about circulation from Albert, who seemed to be in a good mood overall. On Thursday morning though, Sean, the foreign editor, came by to tell me he was having a drinks party at his house. Don’t know what cock reason he had for throwing the party lah but he’d never invited me before. So even though I don’t like him, I felt I had to go.

At first, I thought Albert my boss was going to this party—which is mostly the reason I thought I should go. If the boss is going, then I should be there. But when I asked Albert in the afternoon, “Eh, boss—what time are you going to Sean’s party tonight?” he just looked at me blur.

“Sean invited you to his party?” he said, frowning.

Aiyoh—am I not supposed to go? Is this one of those atas parties that only editors attend?

“Boss, if you think I shouldn’t go, then of course I won’t go,” I quickly said. That weird conversation with Albert had only happened last week, after all. Guniang here was still trying to stay on Albert’s good side and keep him in happy mood. I confirm don’t want him to think I’m starting to think too highly of myself or anything.

“No, no, no,” he said—not frowning anymore but still not smiling. He looked like he was thinking hard. “I’m not going. But if he invited you, of course you should go ahead. Only if you want to, of course.” And then he didn’t say anything more about it for the rest of the day.

Sean’s party only started at nine so guniang had time to go home, eat dinner with my mum, bathe and all. He said the party was not formal so I just picked one of my sleeveless casual black dresses—not so short that it will zaogeng and let everyone see my panties, but something above the knee—and nice heels. On the way there, I even had time to stop by a Wine Exchange to buy a nice bottle of red—French, of course. First time at the foreign editor’s party—better have manners a bit.

Guniang was feeling good that evening. Alistair was texting less, perhaps starting to get the hint that hallo, he was probably never going to see me again. But the main thing was—Roy finally texted! I hadn’t heard from him since our garden walk, which was making me start to wonder.

When I saw his name pop up on my phone after dinner, I at first want to press DELETE without even reading. But OK lah, guniang at least wanted to see what his cock explanation was. It turns out that right after our date he had a big team of clients from the States fly in for a week, and he’s been so busy working and entertaining them that he’d had no time for fun. I knew it had to be something serious keeping him from contacting me!

“In fact,” he texted, “are you free for dinner tomorrow? There’s a goodbye dinner and we’re allowed to bring a date if we want.”

Wah—dinner to meet not just his friends, but his colleagues? Set lah! This one—confirm is very promising! I wondered what Fann would say. Dinner is better than brunch!

Guniang acted tough a bit, waiting one hour before texting back: “OK.”