Aggression

 tell him about the rent increase and also about my unsatisfactory phone call with my currently chosen public enemy number one.

"Sounds like you got off your temper a little," remarks Leon with a smile when I have finished my monologue.

"Yes. Crap. That is probably not a very good basis for a negotiation meeting in a few weeks. "

"You can still hope that the guy isn't an impotent asshole and that your external attributes appease him."

"I wasn't really planning to stretch out on his lap and pay the rent increase in any kind," I reply, grimacing at the thought. I imagine Mr. Mynard - whose full name is Benjamin J. Mynard, by the way, as I researched - as a barely fifty-year-old, ice-cold businessman with a seat who eats small business people like me for breakfast. No, at the thought of sitting on his wobbly thighs and blowing kisses towards him, I don't miss anyone, sorry.

"But a little charm can never be wrong," protests Leon and tugs at my ponytail. “At least retract your claws and smile every now and then. Believe me, a pretty woman's smile works wonders. "

"I don't like the idea of teasing the old man at all."

“Then you have to figure out how you plan to raise the rent in the future. Either that or you retract your claws and show your charming, but above all sensible side. "

"Yes, if only it were that easy ..."

We are interrupted when Clemens claps his hands and continues the class. There is something good about Sandy's wedding and the dance torture that goes with it: At least during this time I am distracted enough that I don't have to worry about the rent increase and worry my head.

***

On Thursday, Anja, Roni and I will go out again to get myself a decent dress for the wedding party. Actually, I wanted to put on some scrap from my closet and not really worry about it, but the two strictly insisted that we all look super hot , so that Sandy would turn green with envy and contrast her white wedding dress perfectly.

And so shortly afterwards we find ourselves in a chic boutique downtown, and I am urged to try out countless dresses that the two of them bring me. After about an hour, I finally find a dress that I really like and that is enthusiastically acclaimed by my sisters. It has a simple cut, with a skin-tight waist, a tight-fitting bodice-like top and a puffy skirt that ends just above the knees. And because it's a beautiful coral red, it also accentuates my light summer tan.

"Add beige shoes and subtle pearl earrings ... and it's perfect!" Says Roni, nodding her head wildly like a broken bobble dog.

"Isn't it a little super hot?" I wonder out loud and look at myself in the mirror.

"Haven't you seen Anja's dress yet?" Asks Roni, grinning happily at our older sister. “If that doesn't cause some heart attacks for the older men, then I don't know. On the other hand, we can easily pass as nuns. "

"Since everyone's going to break their mouths anyway, I'd like to at least provide a lot of explosive." Anja shrugs her shoulders indifferently and nods at me through the mirror. "Take it, Em. You look amazing in it."

Ten minutes later we walk out of the store; I have one dress richer, the others are enthusiastic about the idea of Sandy, green with envy. We make a detour to a shoe shop, where Roni talks me about a pair of beige patent leather pumps. Then we rest in a small restaurant, eat something and treat ourselves to a bottle of wine that suddenly turns into two and we are pretty tipsy.

"Tell me, are you going to do anything for me at this wedding?" I finally ask them and realize that I'm already babbling a little. So I quickly grab my water glass.

"Maybe." Anja flutters her eyelashes innocently.

"May I find out what?" I narrow my eyes and look back and forth between the two innocent sluts. "Shall I relax Sandy the groom and have it with him in a closet while I wear the new shoes?"

There is a clearing of our throat behind us as the waiter brings a new bottle of mineral water. Apparently he overheard my last sentence because he suddenly looks at me much more interested than he did minutes before. Before, his focus was mainly on Roni in her tight top and the plunging neckline, but now that he has heard the word drift out of my mouth, I'm probably the more interesting sister.  

As soon as he is off again, after asking noticeably often whether we really have any further wishes, Roni leans over to me with a grin. "We don't want you to go home alone," she finally confesses to me, the reason for all the fuss about my outfit. "Aren't you rusty down there long ago, as long as you stay away from every guy, as if everyone suddenly had leprosy?"

"It wasn't that long ago," I grumble into my glass of water.

"It is," Anja clarifies. "I'm pretty sure that after your ass face from an ex, no one found their way into your panties."

"Because you hid this path perfectly behind a fence of aggression and scratchiness," adds Roni, nodding with a precocious expression as if she had just uttered some highly poetic wisdom.