“Promise to come see me in Lola tonight, Otto.” He said.

“I will try. I have a Cuban theme party tonight, so I might not be able to make it. But I will try.” I replied.

“Don’t try. It’s been months since I last saw you, you have to come.”

“David, you know that I do not have much company anymore since everyone has moved away. It's terrible to sit alone in any bar.” I said with a sigh. It is definitely bloody time to move on with my life, I thought to myself.

“I’ll keep you company. You just come, just come.”

His name is David and here is the story of how we met.

***
Moons ago I drove the short journey to my favourite chill-out bar, The Datai at quarter to midnight.

The Datai was a chill-out bar, with 3 separate compartments, each with their special flavour. The outmost compartment was in deep aqua. Three black sets of tables and chairs lined the right side of the room while the left was separated into two huge rattan sofas. Rich silk cushions made a weekend night drinking session at The Datai an extremely opulent and luxurious experience.

The middle section was painted rusty orange. Long day beds were found everywhere and customers could move the lightweight rattan day beds to suit their table's number of friends. Atmosphere was very relaxed. Fingers lingered to places where they should not be. Tongues intertwined under the dim Japanese paper lampshade. Music was the loudest here as the DJ lulled patrons with a selection of House and World music.

***
I snuck out of The Datai at 0200 hours. It was the same routine every weekend with Eve. For this special weekend, we decided to visit the newly opened bar, Lola. Eve was there with her boyfriend, Arif. Like all things new, she was too in love to notice anything; this includes an earthquake measuring at 9.3 on the Ritcher scale. I stood there, feeling bored, sweeping spilt beer when someone tapped my back.

I turned around, smiled and greeted the man. It was Nick, a friend of a friend.

“So how is your family?” I politely enquired. I am not too familiar with him, meeting him occasionally though our common friend.

“Oh you know, Judy and I have this arrangement since the kids came around. I have a boy's nights out each Friday while she takes Saturday off with her girlfriends. So I am having my fun tonight.”

He pushed his hair backwards and smiled. He offered me a G&T. I normally drink only from my glass (read this for more details on the rules of surviving the party circuit) but tonight I drank from his because I did not want to offend him. He politely excused himself when our conversation strained. He hunched his back and walked back to rejoin his table of more than ten friends.

I felt unwell ten minutes later. My stomach was pulling and my head was spinning. Everything felt really clouded and at the same time, slow. I called Indie and asked him to help me home. I seriously knew I was not able to drive home safely.

Being the sweetheart that he is, Indie arrived some moments later. He cut his own party short, to meet me and fetch me home. His head was above the crowd, his eyes searching for me.

Soon Indie’s warm fingers slid between mine. He led me throught the crowd back towards his car. At the car park, I saw another man wearing a crisp white shirt. He was toasting at a table, laughing and patting someone’s back.

As clouded as my mind was, this guy caught my eyes. Maybe it was the way he walked or the way he talked at various tables. He stood out in the weekend party crowd, approximately 200 in the dark of the night. He was observing me all through my first night in Lola.

He owned the place, I knew it in my heart. I etched a smile and managed a decent wave good night.

I reached home and plopped myself on the black leather sofa in the living room. My heartbeat was on a Grand Prix race. The Muslim call to prayer started and I knew it was pass 0500 hours.