v. Fidelity wasn't just a tune.

I am not sure about this. This was my deal, but now when it’s my turn, I feel like a thousand eyes are watching, and even though you can’t see me, I still am worried that I might make a fool of myself. I didn’t realize it was this difficult. When he does it, it looks so easy and now when I am actually writing this, eerrmmmm.

Well, ready or not here it comes.

I have written and rewritten this story so many times. It just keeps getting more confusing. Every time I edit it, it gets more baffling.

At least I can count on him to edit it. The deal is he can’t edit the story, only spelling and grammar. Well, a deal is a deal. Okay guys (Zed’s Note: Have you noticed that when we write or talk, we are more inclined to address the opposite sex? Guys and Gals my dear…) here is the deal.

I was sitting with my friends waiting for the rest of the gang to arrive. We just got off work, and decided to meet for a few drinks. It was basically supposed to be just a few of us, but you know how it is. You invite one friend, and she invites another and before you know it you have a crowd. I arrived early, because I hate traffic, and I was actually quite near.

(Zed’s Note: And that is why you end up waiting most of the time, I keep telling her this! Okay folks, I have a quota of only three Zed’s Note so am going to keep the last one for the end of the story! However, I have no quota on how long my notes can be! LOL)

Lucky me I had both my best friends with me, so I don’t have that “awkward wait”, at least that’s what I call it. I would rather wait in the car, rather then be in a club alone. Men don’t understand this. No matter how strong we look, we are ladies, and ladies are ladies – if only someone teach them manners, they would probably have some idea. Anyway, before I digress again (I still feel like someone is reading over my shoulder!) let me give you my version of what happened.

We arrived at the club, and decided to take the table outside. It fits more people, and I don’t have to handle guys staring at me. Girls, I am sure you know what I mean. Some jerks just look at you all night and think that they are Rambo or something. This is one reason why I don’t like going out. I don’t think I am pretty, and I am surely not a model – and I don’t need another ten guys walking up to me to tell me what I am not. Sheesh!

So we sat down, and I noticed this guy who caught my eye and smiled. Well, (and by now, I have read Zed’s entry so this is my version okay) I felt that here’s another joker trying to get lucky. Damn hi hi hi…

I think I may have smiled, at least that is what Zed insists, but I don’t remember smiling! Sorry dear! LOL. The way he writes it, you might think that the evening may have lasted like the whole night! Actually if memory serves me right, it was probably about an hour or so. Hi hi leave it to Zed to “stretch” the whole thing. Anyway, I don’t think I can write like him, so I shall get straight to the point. I was ordering my drinks (and I especially liked the “interpretation” Zed has on his idea of women looking at guys when they order drinks! I think I must have had dust in my eyes or something, and accidentally looked his way, ROTFL!) and Zed came over. He looked clumsy and as if this was the first time talking to women or something, and Zed if you were acting, demmm you are good! I felt like there is no harm. We are early, and my girlfriends and I are in a naughty mood. So we started chatting. I didn’t really realize Zed’s so called stunt, about walking away and coming back but I have to admit when I read his version – I feel tricked! So this is my chance for revenge LOL.

Anyway, he called me a few weeks back and said he wanted to write about what happened, and my first question was - what happened? You see, nothing happened that night, so I felt that hmmm… how much harm can come out of this. Then he went and included my name. Cannot laa… like that. So I called Zed and we came to this deal. I get to write the end of the story, so whatever he writes I get to give my version of it right? And in return he cannot use my name, but can only write about me until end of September. So he has one month to write about me, and by end of September I can write the closing. Anyway, this is a bit early (and Zed said he is out of idea, hmmm that is hard to believe!), and the other reason I agreed is because Zed’s birthday is this month, and he insisted that this is his birthday gift. Sheesh, if I knew writing is this difficult, I would have been better to get a pressy lah.

So you must be wondering if the story is true?

Actually, the facts are okay lah, not too much exaggeration. I have known Zed for a few months now, and since that evening I am one of his “buds”. He calls me that because he said he don’t believe in platonic relationships and the only way we can be friends is if he treats me like a guy! Zed I still don’t get this LOL. Is Zed a chicskaholic? Well, I think he is easy to get comfortable with. I like that he can take my day apart, reassemble it and suddenly my confusion makes sense. I don’t know how to explain this, but Zed can see through problems better then most people, so I guess hanging out with him helps me solve my problem. Okay Zed, I said nice things about you already… (Happy Birthday early!)

Anything else? Errmmmm… let me see. I am not supposed to talk about details, so it’s a bit difficult. I am supposed to write about that evening, but the way I see it, I am done. So that’s it.

In case you didn’t notice, yes it’s me – the so called Brown Eyes.

XXX

(Zed’s Note: Hmmm… where do I even begin? Phew! Okay, first of all thank you Brown Eyes for keeping to the deal and not being too nasty in your story! Have you ever tried to get someone else to write? It’s like trying to get a raging bull to get his jabs. By now, you may have guessed it. Yes, Brown Eyes and me are just friends. We have been for a while now, and yes I do treat her like one of the guys.

Any other way? I may end up in a spot where I may have trouble getting out of. I meant it when all I wanted was to have a chat with her that evening. What is more complimenting for a guy then to be hanging out with a hot babe? (No! I wasn’t referring to you Brownie... LOL) Can’t think of anything else.

Platonic relationships? It's just a mask for "when do we get into bed"? A holding pattern.

Okay, that is the end of this story. I hope it's amusing, because that is the way it's meant to be. I have a few more stories running around in my head, so I may write about those. I think I shall call this tale - Brown Eyes with a Twist.)