“What do you mean ‘then what do we do?’ You talk to him, kiss him, screw him… whatever you want to do with him. We can even make it a little game. Whoever gets farther with their BB that night is the winner, and the loser buys breakfast the next morning. We can whore our way through our book boyfriends until we determine what each of our ‘type’ is.”
“That’s no fair! You are obviously going to win all the time; I’m at such a disadvantage! I don’t just want to give away my virginity to the first guy that comes along to win some game,” I argued.
“Oh Sam,” Evie replied, “I’m not going to just sleep with guys that I don’t want to sleep with just so I don’t have to buy breakfast the next morning or to beat you at some game. The true point of the game is to find a guy that’s a keeper, one you seriously want to date, the side game will just make it more fun until we do!”
I thought about what she said and knew she was right. Evie had devised a perfect way for me to meet different kinds of guys and the game would help me to break out of my shell, lose some of my insecurities, and do things that I would most likely be too timid to try. I’m not sure if it was the empty bottle of wine that sat in the kitchen trash, the possibility of finding the happily ever after I had read about time and again in my countless books, or the fact I definitely did not want to die a virgin, but I found myself saying, “Game on. May the best book whore win.”
Chapter 2
The following morning came way too soon, and before I had even opened my eyes, I felt the throbbing in my head. Before the previous night, my alcohol consumption had been limited to a glass of wine on two separate occasions; both times I had stayed the night at Evie’s house. My parents would have never allowed me to drink, not for any reason. When I finally managed to roll out of bed to turn off the screaming alarm clock, I headed straight for the kitchen to grab a glass of water and some aspirin from my purse. I heard the shower running in Evie’s room so I knew that she was up and getting ready and that I needed to get moving. Our spa appointments began at 8:00AM and it was already 7:15. After showering and throwing on the first thing I could find, I found her waiting for me in the living room. Luckily the medicine had kicked in and I was feeling a little more human.
“You ready for your makeover? To find out how beautiful you truly are when you aren’t hiding behind all of that hair and those frumpy ass clothes?” she cheerily asked with a huge grin on her face. I knew she was just as excited about this as me, maybe even more so.
“Absolutely. Let the fun begin.” I responded, returning the smile. I was so blessed to have an amazing friend that cared so much about my happiness.
Upon arrival at the spa, we were quickly checked in for our “A Whole New Me” package, which I thought was an especially fitting name for my current situation, and were whisked away to strip and change into plush white bath robes. I had never been to a day spa before, so I had asked Evie all kinds of questions on the way over about what to expect. I was most nervous about the waxing and the massage. The waxing scared me for a couple of reasons ~ first, I had read about how painful it was and I knew that my threshold for pain was at like a negative two on a scale of one to ten; and second, I couldn’t believe that I was going to allow a complete stranger to not only look at, but touch my private area. Evie tried to calm my nerves by telling me that the aesthetician sees women’s crotches and asses all day long, much like a gynecologist. For her, it would be like looking at any other body part- an arm or a leg. This didn’t make me feel much better, but I really didn’t have a logical argument. The massage scared me for similar reasons. I knew it wouldn’t be painful, but I wasn’t quite sure I was comfortable with a stranger rubbing their hands all over my body. Evie finally told me to shut up, everything would be fine. I needed to just enjoy the day.
The first service I was scheduled for was the waxing. I thought I might as well get the toughest part over first, right? I soon found out that tough wasn’t quite the right word to describe exactly what happened to me on that table. “Awful, dreadful, agonizing, excruciating, unbearable” was the terminology that needed to be used when people described having their hair ripped out by the root on the most sensitive parts of one’s body. I truly felt bad for the technician that was trying her hardest to keep me quiet and still. I was pretty sure that the pain associated with waxing had to be up there close to childbirth with no drugs. At one point, I’m positive everyone in the building heard my pleas for her to stop, but she ignored my requests and just kept on manhandling me. What seemed like hours later, she announced she was finished and that I should come back every two to four weeks for maintenance. Did she not remember that only moments earlier I was frantically trying to escape her grasp and screaming obscenities that would make a sailor blush? I just replied with an “okay,” put my robe back on, and allowed her to me lead me down the hall to another room. where an elderly woman was waiting for me.
“Hi Scarlett, I’m Joanie and I’m going to be your massage therapist today,” she said as I sheepishly entered the room.
“Hi Joanie, please tell me you aren’t going to hurt me,” I replied.
Her hearty laugh filled the room and helped relax me a bit. This room was much different than the first one I had been in. Instead of bright, cold, and sterile, it was dimly lit with instrumental music lightly playing in the background and an aroma of lavender and eucalyptus teased my nostrils. It was serene and tranquil, and I found it very soothing.
“No sweetie, I’m not going to hurt you. I hope to do just the opposite of that. Let’s get you out of that robe and help you forget the torture that Tina just put you through,” she chuckled.
“Tina? That’s her name? I was convinced her name was Olga and her second job was a Dominatrix at a BDSM club.”
“I’ll be sure to let her know that she has options in case her job here ever falls through,” Joanie snickered. “Now hop up on the table on your belly, face in that donut looking pillow, and arms by your side.”
The hour long massage was pure bliss. I’m pretty sure at one point I had fallen asleep and began drooling. After explaining to Joan that it was my first time, she did an excellent job of making me feel at ease and relaxed. I was amazed at the way her hands made my body feel ~ it was incredible, like nothing I’d ever experienced before, not sexual in any way but oh so satisfying. Now that was something I would willingly come back for every two to four weeks. Before I knew it, she was patting my arm, telling me the hour was up. I reluctantly got up off the table, put my robe back on, and followed her to my next appointment still in a sated haze. My nails, hair, and make-up followed the massage and by the end of the day I truly felt like a new person.
After we grabbed a bite to eat, we hit the shops to tackle the issue of my clothes-less closet. I knew that it would take me awhile to build up a full wardrobe, but for now I needed to get the basics. Several hours and dozens of stores later, we were both exhausted but I felt giddy with the bags and bags of goodies in the backseat, especially the ones from Victoria’s Secret
We finally returned to our apartment a little after seven which gave us a couple of hours to recharge before the party. I felt like a completely new person~ my long, dark brown hair now had subtle highlights and long layers that framed my face, I had received a lesson in make-up application from the sales associate at the MAC counter, and I had updated my clothes selection with help from Evie. As I was putting away my purchases, Evie came into my room and sat on my bed.
“So for tonight… are we still going to do our book boyfriend challenge?” she asked, trying to hide the hopefulness in her voice.
“Of course, why wouldn’t we?” I asked.
“I was just making sure you weren’t having second thoughts… that you just didn’t agree last night because you had been drinking,” she said. “But yay, I’m glad you still want to do this… I think it’s going to be a fun way for us to meet new people. Since this is our first time, I want you to pick the “type” we are hunting tonight… whatever you will be most comfortable with.”
“Hunting, Evie? Really?” I exclaimed.
“Yes, hunting, Sam. Guys are prey that you hunt, capture, and slaughter. If you don’t have this mindset, you will become the prey… I’ve been the prey once, and I’ll be damned if I let it happen again,” she said with a bite to her tone. Evie was still bitter over the only serious relationship that she had been in, and apparently, she wasn’t ready to let it go.
“Okay, whatever, a little dramatic don’t you think?” She gave me a warning look as to not press the issue. I didn’t want to bicker with her. The day had been too perfect to ruin it with something so silly, so I decided to drop it and move on. “Then to make it easy tonight let’s do the ‘Mr. All-American,’ the college frat boy, since we are going to be at a college party. There should be plenty of those to choose from, right?” I asked.
“Sounds perfect, now let’s get dressed to kill,” she grinned as she stood up and walked out of my room.