No way

Not wanting to start your first day as a new person by getting date **** by a creepy stalker, you pretend to drink, then drop it in the first trash can you see. The place is just so crowded, you can’t even think. Finding the front door, you head out into the night to at least get a bit of fresh air. As you exit the club a rather large man steps in front of you, it is rather intimidating.

“Shall I get your car Miss Alvarez?” You feel like you should know him.

A name pops in your head as you answer, “Yes please, thank you Frank.”

His lips lift a bit into a little smile that completely breaks his tough demeanor when you say his name. He talks quietly into a little headset, then, “Samantha is bringing your car up now.”

Another flash of memory, a dark skinned very athletic woman, sweaty, pumping into you with a long pink strap on. “Isn’t Sam great?” You ask him. You are pretty sure they are dating now.

“Actually she’s going by Samantha these days. Her acting coach got her a part in a horror movie. She doesn’t even die. It sounds great.”

“That’s great.” You go quiet and stare as a vibrant metallic purple BMW z4 pulls up, and out steps the beautiful Samantha in a cute valet uniform. “Samantha.” You say to her smiling.

She gives a tiny bow, “Your car, ma’am.” She offers her hand as if to assist you, then turns it over and wiggles it a bit to show off her new ring.

You can’t hold back a smile as emotions for these complete strangers flood in. “Frank?” You ask.

From behind you he says, “Hey.”

She nods.

“Do you have a date yet?”

“Next year, early summer, we are still working on getting everything together.”

“That’s amazing. Congratulations you two.” A big yawn nearly blows the moment. They both laugh. “Sorry, I guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

“Are you okay to drive? Are you drunk?” They ask concerned.

“Ya I’m fine. It’s just been a really weird day.” You slide into the car, a familiar looking purse sits on the passenger seat. Medium size, satchel like, black leather.

She closes the door for you. “Okay, if you’re sure. Your super sexy car already has your hotel on the gps so at least you won’t get lost. Do you know when you will be back in town next?”

The answer flows out without you thinking about it, “I don’t, but I promise it won’t take a funeral next time. Christmas at the latest. I drive back home tomorrow morning, then I’m in Italy next week for a month, 5 weeks I think.”

They wave as you head out. Looking at the screen, your hotel is indeed in the gps. Unless you are feeling like stopping somewhere else?