Queer O’ Clock: La femme fatale

By Queer Bee

We have just two Queer lounges in town, “Ebony lounge” and ” la femme fatale”. My crew and I consisting of Kemi the police officer, Aisha the lawyer, Ronke the painter, Ruth the DJ, and myself Maureen the doctor all loved to party and have a good time. At 11.45 pm we left ebony lounge because it was karaoke night, plus we all sucked at it. We went straight to “la femme fatale”. As regulars, we knew almost everyone there as the community was relatively small. We took our regular spot by the VIP area and ordered our favourite drinks.
Suddenly I noticed a new face, a slender looking woman on the dance floor. “Who is she?”, I asked myself, for I had never seen her here or anywhere else. She was dancing like her life depended on it. Her waist moving North, South, East, and West in seconds. Her legs, vibrating and barely touching the ground. Her bosom bouncing to the beat. Her long hair waving the audience. She didn’t care, she was in her own world.

Aisha noticed my absence from the discussion and followed my eyes to the woman who was zapping my attention. “Hey, guys, what do you think of that chick who Maureen can’t take her eyes off?” Aisha asked the crew. “Let’s make this fun, let’s profile her”, she suggested further. Very classic of Aisha who loved to play detective any time she got an opportunity. We played the game of profiling whenever one of us liked a girl and we would all place a bet before the person attracted to the girl walked up to her to find out which one of us won.
“She has a music note tattoo on her arm I think she’s a musician or a dancer “, suggested Ronke.

“Yeah I agree with you on that one, the babe has been switching from salsa to breakdance and ‘shaku shaku’. Look at her ‘zanku’ moves abeg ” affirmed Ruth.
“You are both wrong. Look at the bling Rolex on her wrist, she is probably a lawyer. I can’t tell her exact occupation but those shoes aren’t the shoes of a dancer or singer. She changed her work clothing after work and felt more comfortable in her work shoes. I have a pair of those flats myself ” countered Aisha
“Tah, Aisha do you know what your problem is? You just think everyone that dresses like you is you. That Rolex is even too big for her wrist. She’s probably wearing her boyfriend’s watch or maybe it belongs to her sugar daddy or pimp I know a lot of girls like that “argued Kemi.

Before the argument got heated I stepped in, ” OK OK you’ve all made your point let me go find out which one of you is right before someone snatches her off the dance floor “.
I was sure that I wasn’t the only one mesmerized by her charm so I danced my way till I could face her and danced even harder to get her attention. Her dance moves were almost professional that it intimidated me a little. As her eyes pierced into mine, I knew she was aware of her stronghold on me. A perfect prototype of a Femme fatale. This temptress may even be related to Cleopatra for all I know.

“Hi I’m Maureen can I buy you a drink?”, I offered.” Sure, after this song, I love it so much” she answered. ” Me too, it’s a nice song ” I responded but I didn’t like the song. In fact, I hated the fact that I was dancing so much. I could feel my body perspiring and getting sticky but I faked a smile.

” I didn’t catch your name from earlier, “I said to her as she drank her shot of tequila. “That’s because I didn’t give it to you ” she fired back.” So what do I call you, mysterious lady?
“Sorry I didn’t mean to be rude, I am Rachel Kwame ”
After 3 shots she went on to tell me about her occupation as a Ghanaian diplomat working as an attaché in the Ghana high commission here in Nigeria. I told her about my profession as a gynecologist in a private hospital that was not only queer-friendly but offered SRHR services to the community at a discounted price and she was so impressed.
We spoke about music, poetry, art, and literature in such a short time. We had similar interests like our love for memes and classical arts. After a while, I suggested that she followed me back to my apartment so I could show her all the paintings I’ve hoarded from around the world.
She gave it some thinking before accepting my invitation.

In my head, I laughed at my crew who were probably still profiling her from behind. Today’s game had just one winner, for I will be taking this damsel home.

Categories Blog/HerStory/Queer O'clock

Post Author: wheradmin

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