2:00 am. It’s the witching hour- the time I usually make that bathroom run. My mom says it’s a sign of aging. I don’t think so. It’s those margaritas I tossed back with my buddies tonight. As a matter of fact, the alcohol is making my head kind of fuzzy, so after conducting my business (and washing my hands, of course) I head for the kitchen for some water and Advil. As I make my trek down the hall, my cell phone starts to chirp. I run to grab it, all the while wondering who could possibly be calling me at this hour.

The caller ID reads “unknown caller”. Hmm.

“Hello” I say, with that sexy/sleepy voice that you only have in the middle of the night.

“Are you fucking my man- BIYATCH?!” the voice queries with venom and malice.

“Uh- like right this minute now?” I’m still in my “happy place” because of the tequila.

“Don’t play coy bitch- you know what I mean.” Gosh, this chick is a hothead.

“Look girly, I know that you have to know what time it is. Why are you calling me with this mess? “

“I found your number in Malcolm’s cell phone. I know something is going on between the two of you.”

“So, if you know so much, why are you calling me asking me questions?” I can’t seem to keep the hint of amusement out of my voice. It just cranks Miss Thang up even more.

“This ain’t no joke BITCH! Malcolm and I have been together for two years. We are getting married. Nothing is going to stop that from happening.”

“Uh huh. Well good for you. But maybe you want to think about that. Why would you want to marry a man that you suspect is cheating on you? What is that all about?”

“What?” I can hear the doubt creep in to her voice.

“I said- why do you want to be married to someone who cheats on you?” This is amusing. That was some good tequila.

“Malcolm is good to me. Whenever I need him, he is always there. No one understands me the way he does. He bought me a car, helped me pay for school. What we have is real, and nobody is going to mess that up.”

“So that makes it alright that he runs around on you? That makes it ok for you to call the woman you THINK might be sleeping with him? Seriously, I know your mother had to have taught you better than that. The person you are in a relationship with is Malcolm. He is the one you SHOULD be waking up in the middle of the night.”

By now, I’m seated on the barstool and leaning on the island counter. The water has long been forgotten.

“Malcolm is a man. He’s just going to lie.” The caller sounds defeated and very, very young. “What has he been telling you about me? Do you know how long we have been together? Since senior year in high school. That’s how long. Malcolm always comes back to me.”

“And there you are with open arms. Ever thought that maybe Malcolm has learned that he can do whatever he wants because you haven’t confronted him? Here you are calling me up. I haven’t given you a ring or promised to spend the rest of my life with you. Hell, I haven’t even met you. But, here it is after two in the morning, and you are calling my house cussing at me. And how did you decide it was me that you needed to call? By the way?”

“I’ve seen your number on his Blackberry several times a day for the last couple of weeks. I read all those text messages about meeting for lunch and I know ya’ll were supposed to meet with a bunch of people for drinks tonight. He’s been so distracted lately, and this isn’t the first time, and so I figured you were the latest.”

“Well, look, for the record, I have been consulting with Malcolm on a business project. You might want to pull up on the random late night phone calls. You could have lost Malcolm some major business. Lucky for you I have plenty of tequila coursing through my veins right now, so I’m pretty mellow. Another night and you would have gotten your little feelings seriously hurt. My suggestion to you- figure out why you are with this man and why you are putting up with this bullshit, and then figure out if you are going to stay or go. The choice is yours, but you can’t go calling up the women you think he’s messing with. You need to address that with Malcolm. I’m going to bed now. Please don’t call me again. EVER. Bye-bye now.”

I push “end” on the phone, place it on the counter and shuffle back down the hall to my bedroom. The tequila really has kicked in and I just want to go to sleep. Before I crawl back into bed, I pull back the covers and push Malcolm on to the floor.

“Go home to your girlfriend, delete my number from your phone, and pick up those condom wrappers before you leave.”

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