closetkey

Closet Key

Janine was all dressed up and applying make-up. God knows why she’d agreed to this dating bash. Lizzie had worn her down with persistence and a touch of blackmail:

But I don’t like to go on my own. I won’t know anybody.

Janine reminded her that that was the whole point, but logic was lost on Lizzie. She was one of those females to whom men flock, but who ends up sipping a martini and looking forlorn by the end of the evening. It wasn’t that she was unattractive but she tried too hard. She always laughed at their jokes, took an interest in football and formula one and generally made a bloke feel… trapped.

Janine cleaned her make-up off and started again. Lighter this time. She didn’t want to be taken for a tart. Nor did she want to look too attractive. This was bound to end in tears.

“It’s a Lock and Key party,” Lizzie’d said, “the latest in speed dating.”

From what Janine had gathered, every woman would be issued with a lock and every man with a key and they’d work the room looking for their match – prizes given if you found one. Nothing subtle about the symbolism there, she thought. Why couldn’t men have a lock and women a key?

Janine checked the makeover. At least she didn’t look like a whore now. The effect was fresh faced rather than ‘made-up’ but this outfit wouldn’t do.

She’d gone for the little black dress. The little black dress is supposed to do for all occasions but without her usual make-up it made her look pasty. Besides, a little black dress also qualifies as sexy, as it is usually worn over little black stockings and with little black high heels. Jeans would be fine. She unzipped and stepped out of the dress, pulled her jeans on and rummaged for a top. The frilled vest had no sleeves – too bare. She could wear her hooded cardy over - too warm. The embroidered smock was too girly and it made her look fat. At length she opted for the jersey T with crocheted neckline. Khaki - great colour too. It matched her grey-green eyes and suited her mood. She checked in the mirror, pleased with the effect. Seven o’clock. Lizzie would be here any minute.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” asked Lizzie.

“No, I was thinking of changing into a pumpkin… or something less clichéd – a melon maybe.”

Lizzie giggled at Janine’s little joke as if they were still twelve.

Lizzie had gone way beyond the little black dress and was almost wearing a low cut, halter neck, monochrome, polka dot mini-dress over a lacy pink bra that peeked out blushingly, pink tights and a pair of strappy sandals a tad out of step with the season.

“You’ll be frozen,” said Janine sourly.

“I’ll not be as cold as you,” remarked Lizzie. “I do hope you’re going to make an effort, Janine. I mean what if one of these handsome creatures really holds the key to your heart?”

Janine begrudged the entrance fee to this farce but then again, ‘ticket only’ was some sort of safeguard. She scanned the room. There were a few gorgeous creatures certainly but...

“Just take whichever lock you fancy, Miss,” said the attendant.

whichever lock you fancy, Miss… whichever lock you fancy, Miss…

Janine panicked. Her hands were sweating and she could feel her blood all of a rush. What was wrong with choosing whether to take a key or a lock? Why couldn’t you take one of each - just to be sure? “I’m sorry, Lizzie,” she said - and fled.