Have Such a Sad Time Together
would propel me forward, move me through the kiss, the clasp, and
the shudder. I jacked the volume and smoothed on the runny face
women are either unimportant, worthy of no more treatment than
guesswork; somewhat important, but still burdened by unimportant
elements that makes them unworthy of thorough treatment; or so
precociously important that one can do no more than nurse high hopes
sobered with caution.
I can smell
her Gardenia perfume, a scent I love. Personal scent is extremely
compelling on a woman.
as a turkey, and I want him slurring.
My sister is
like, “you need to date.”
“get a gym membership, pull it together.”
I am drinking
alone at home, with the computer in my lap, and I find this message
board, and this guy "BigHeadRob" starts in, "hey working girl, did u
make it to the gym last night?"
archivist for the Smithsonian. He’s got a dog.
He wears ties
in all of his photos. He's got a lot of photos online. He takes a
picture of his outfit every single day and puts it online. He writes
a little caption describing where each item of clothing comes from,
“vintage Store in Phoenix.”
afternoon I go to the handicapped bathroom on the 4th floor and lock
the door. It is the only private place in the office, and it has a
big window. Every afternoon I floss my teeth for a long time with the
sun on my face. Then I go back to my desk.
spirits and ghosts and witches and downright devils among us and
they will make you suffer. But when I look into the littleness of
her fond eyes, I see that no harm is meant. She actually does want
to take me dancing!
as a love maker comes from my belief in the truth-potential of any
When we wake
up, she goes into the bathroom and I follow her in there and she is
naked before the sink, washing her face. I squeeze her.
“I have to
get a picture of you like this,” I say.
“Why do you
take pictures of your outfits every day?”
been doing a little Rob research.”
“It's just a
thing we do.”
me in this delightful and not delighted way.
I was drunk.
He was an
archivist for the Smithsonian.
He knew how
to make basil ice-cream.
The dog and I
walked her home. Her corduroy pants were covered in dog hair and
lint. She had to walk home in her high heels.
“Do you want
to hold the leash?” I asked.
“I don't feel
She took the
leash and walked the dog. The sun was shining. We passed a Salvadoran
outdoor market. Things had been hard for me in
We arrived at
her apartment building. “Can I have your number?” I produced a pen
and paper from my satchel. She wrote her number on the paper. Then I
produced my camera and said, “I am going to take a picture of you.”
“You can keep
your sunglasses on.”
after her, "Let’s get a beer sometime." Then I sat on a bench
outside her building and programmed her number into my phone.
trying to seem witty or pathetic or ingenious or naive or dull.
She was the
last one to say my name, unless you count the women of the Grooming
lounge. They scream, “It’s Rob!” every time I come in for a haircut.
thirty-seven a lot?
I'd say I've
done a lot of work on thirty-seven women in my life, but no more
work than was necessary to establish myself. The meaning of
relationship is always different for any two people.