Lean On Me

Watch Your Tongue

 “There’s nothin’ to see here.” Roger told Brian. I agreed wholeheartedly.

 “Freddie’s been looking for you two all morning. Where the hell have you been? Well, obviously, you’ve been to Manolo Blahnik and Chanel….and Dolce and Gabbana and Gucci and….oh god. You cleaned our Dior didn’t you?! Mary gasped, examining the load on the floor. “Freddie is gonna’ kill you! You’ve been to Beverly Hills! You know how much he…ooooh Roger, I know it’s her birthday but Fred is going to killllll you!” she said.  I knew Roger and I should have gone back to the suite first and delivered all this. Sure enough, Freddie returned and nearly spilled everything in his plate all over Mary.

 “Oh my god! You’ve been shopping! That’s why I couldn’t get ahold of your sorry arses! I hate you! I don’t care if it is her birthday, Roger! You know how badly I wanted to go to Beverly Hills! I adore clothes and the best ones are there! How the hell did you even get there!? You can’t drive on these backwards highways! Fuck! You went to Dior!? I hate you even more!” Freddie practically dropped his plate to the table. Veronica looked up to both Roger and I with a bit of a look of disgust on her face. “And how the hell did you even find your way there without directions? Did you ask the hotel? Did you call Jim? Oh! This is a beautiful scarf! You don’t mind that I go through your bags, right!? Lydia! For god’s sake! There are five pair of Manolos in here!”

 “I couldn’t decide!” I tried to defend myself.

 “They all looked good on her. Shit, it’s not like she won’t wear ‘em. Come on, babe. Buffet.” Roger said, tugging on my arm. I smiled, preparing to get up.

 “Wait, who the hell is Debbie? Happy Birthday Lydia, thanks for doing what you do with your tongue. Love, Debbie. Aww, Lydia! It’s a gorgeous clutch! Black satin and rhinestones! Oooooh it’s a Fendi! Can I borrow this sometime!?” Freddie asked, happily. Roger and I both looked a little terrified. “Oh! Oh what’s this? There’s a tube of lipstick and a pair of white silky panties in here.” My eyes were wider than saucers as I glared horribly at Freddie. This was it. There was going to be one less member of Queen at this brunch table.

 “You know what lets just…let’s just….throw that thing…under…here.” Roger said, swiping the clutch from Freddie and jamming it into the bottom of the nearest bag. “Shut uuuuuuup.” Roger growled under his breath to Fred. “Lyd. Buffet. Now.” Roger shifted those wide blue eyes to me and I grabbed him hand, preparing to leave for the buffet.

 “Wait, wait, wait, wait….Lydia…happy birthday, by the way. What uh….what do you do with your tongue and how does it involve this….this Debbie that I’ve never even heard of? Please darling, first you deprive me of the shopping adventure of a lifetime and now you get a birthday note from someone that I don’t know?” Freddie just had to press on with this.

 “Oh god, it’s…it’s nothin’ Fred. It’s reeeaaaally, reaaaaally not a big deal at all. She’s just….you know…a…friend…that I….know.” I shook my head incessantly, standing up with Roger and walking away from the table.  Roger and I had never scurried through a buffet line so quickly, taking a little bit of this and than even if we didn’t like it. Freddie’s eyes were on us the entire time.

 “Okay, why are they acting weird?” John asked. Freddie shrugged and returned to his plate.

 “They’re probably overwhelmed with guilt because they didn’t invite me on their little birthday shopping spree. What Freddie didn’t know was that Roger and I had happily awoken with Debbie Harry that morning. Both of us ridiculously in love with each other and so sexed out we could hardly function. I got my customary birthday….well, I got something that I always get for my birthday every year…not that it’s the only time of the year I get it….my birthday is always when it lasts the longest because Roger forces me into it. Once Roger pulled his tongue from between my legs, we learned that Debbie had a plane to catch at 12:30 that day. We got up, showered, and for the record three people can’t fit into a shower at the Ritz-Carlton…two can though…and Debbie was sweet enough to shove Roger in there with me after she...well, she did some things and then threw Roger in the shower with me. I gave Debbie some of my clothes for the flight since she didn’t have a damn thing. We got to talking over room-service tea only to learn that she knew where all the best shopping in Beverly Hills was located and where to find a trendy coffee bar that she insisted we had to visit. She called her driver who took the three of us to Beverly Hills for some serious birthday retail therapy.