Member-only story
The Big Night
Silver dresses, silent battles, and shifting desires
I’m in Lisbon for my cousin’s 30th birthday. Four other girls attend I’ve never met before. The first twenty-four hours are okay, but slowly I notice some tension between them through discreet ears and curved backs. The second night we head to a fancy place for dinner with a French name and nothing local at all. On the way there, the girls are merry — all five of them in their shiny silver dresses. Tonight is supposed to be the big birthday night, so we’re prepared to go huge like we would at a circus as animals, not clowns. The birthday girl is to justifiably make the night all about her, and we are to bow and execute like geishas on a spring roll.
When we first enter the room, the dim lights, shabby floor, and soft textures around us stroke us the right way. A tuxedoed man with swift manners escorts us to our table. As we sit down, we look around. A couple of handsome men are on our left. We take turns to check them all out using a precise schedule. There are all types of styles for all tastes. We get back to the menu, aware that a decision has to be made and the choice will be tough. The fattest one of the group insists on getting a large amount of small sharing plates. We agree knowing small is not big and beautiful, and then regret when she eats three-quarters more than everyone else.
