He finally slid into the seat opposite me, a confident smirk playing on his lips. "I've been watching you all night," he said, his voice a low honeyed drawl. "I think we could have a real future together."
"Good. Because here’s the story from A to Z," I continued, tapping a finger on the mahogany table. "You want to get with me? You gotta listen carefully. I don't do 'easy.' I don't do 'wasting my precious time.' And most importantly," I paused, gesturing to the group of women laughing by the bar, "if you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends."
The smirk was gone now, replaced by a look of genuine intrigue. He stood up and offered a hand, not to lead me away, but to walk over to the bar where my friends were waiting. "I guess I better go introduce myself," he said.
He looked over at them, then back at me, realizing this wasn't the standard script. My friends weren't just background noise; they were the gatekeepers. If he couldn't handle their sharp wit or earn their respect, he wouldn't even make it to the next round.
He blinked, his smirk faltering just a fraction. "I'm listening."
This story is inspired by the sultry, assertive energy of the Why Mona cover of "Wannabe."
"Taking is too easy," I added, finishing my drink. "But that's the way it is. If you really bug me, I'll say goodbye. So, what’s it going to be?"
I watched him go, knowing that in this game, friendship never ends—and if he wanted to stay in the picture, he’d have to learn to "zigazig, ah" just like the rest of us.