Danson slowly negotiated into a large carpark and released the clutches after which he stepped out in a rather laggard and unwavering manner. As we attempted to join him, we were all hit by a sudden cacophonous decibel of sound which pierced through the frenzy atmosphere of the premises.
I alacritously reached to my handbag and grabbed my kit to add some finishing touches to to my makeup and bring it to the near perfection that it ought to be. I terminated the final finishing by adding another layer of lipstick on my lips after which I rolled my two hemi-lips against each other to evenly distribute the red substance.
I sighed for a moment and proceeded to finger a small piece of mirrow which was proudly popping out from the side of my small purse. I certainly admired the lady who stared back at me; a pretty chubby face with a pointed nose; wide, innocent eyes and cupid-bow lips which locked against each other in a characteristic manner. I was tempted to smile for a while before I told Jane and Tracy;
"Shall we?"
"Okay Ladies, This is Fun Hub," announced Danson. "This is the newest and the largest sitout in town. This is where all the classy and rich young men in this town hang out."
I was so much interested in the description, but I pretended I wasn't, especially the, "classy and rich young men" part. I was interested in that. I desperately needed a man with enough and to spare in his pocket, maybe not for any serious relationship but at least I could use one of those for ' Friday nights.' Tracy did not have to be the only one with rich guys all around her, guys who did not have any reservations against funding her to get breakfast in California, lunch in Lagos and Dinner in Switzerland, on the same fucking day. Every lady deserved such a man, and I couldn't have been an exception.
My friends were out to have fun, get drunk and maybe have sex. But I was the fisherwoman of the night. I was at Fun Hub to fish, to find my own 'maga'; and nothing else but a maga.