6.3 Miles. 22 Minutes.
“[W]e are not bad at it, not at all. To be sure, alone neither Brigitta nor I is ever quite so cunning or brave, but together it seems that we strongly reenforce one another’s waywardness, and, as the nights go by, become more and more adroit at charming perfect strangers. Yet no matter how skillfully, how professionally, we come to maneuver as a team, I still go a little weak and dizzy when it appears that we have actually succeeded in finding a willing third…
— Philip Roth, The Professor of Desire
You are a fool.
Trapped in your delusions, you never fail to miss the obvious. You set your sights too low. You never take things far enough. It always comes as a revelation that someone, somewhere might take an interest in you.
You want her number. She wants to fuck you.
You didn’t shave your balls, and when you arrive she doesn’t pay you much mind. She spoke of blood and needles when you first met. Never mind that she was sweet and young and beautiful — you assumed she wanted something you could not offer. So you put her out of your mind. You didn’t think about her tits (how pert!), nor, God forbid, did you let yourself believe you might get a look at her cunt (how pliant and wet!).
It is much easier to impress civilians.
Her hair is different now. She is different now. Bite your lip when she glances in your direction. Smile when she approaches, squatting beside you and placing a pale hand upon your thigh. Ever the thoughtless one, it doesn’t occur to you to slide over until your wife insists upon it.
And yet even at this moment, even as she sits a little too close, even as she strokes your chin, you are still thinking about getting her number. Try to socialize with other people. After all, this is why you let yourself out of your cage tonight. Realize this is utterly pointless; you cannot tear yourself away from her.
Seduction is useless. The pupils, for example, dilate involuntarily. And the skin flushes. And the pulse quickens. None of this can be faked, the survival of the species being too essential to entrust to the machinations of the intellect. Words are unimportant. As the two of you draw closer, tell her about the time your college roommate claimed to have broken his penis during a night of rough sex.
People gather their things. Don’t mask your disappointment when she rises from her seat. “Leaving us already?” you ask. The way she looks at you tells you everything you need to know. “No, I’m just getting a beer,” she says. Accompany her to the counter, and when you get there ask the bartender to give you the worst beer he can find.
This is the Bad Man’s bar and it may as well be enemy territory. Your wife lifts her shirt to reveal her red bikini top. The bartender tells her she cannot do this. “This has to be the lamest bar in New York,” you tell the Bad Man. “What’s the attraction for you?” Your wife interrupts: “Why are you all just sitting there?” The apple of your eye shrugs. The Bad Man shrugs. You shrug.
Leslie takes the girl’s hand and leads her to the space in front of the DJ booth. Observe them in the quiet moments between words. You pretend not to notice when the girl’s hands find your wife’s ass. Something in you stirs.
When the three of you are alone the conversation turns seductive. Don’t be afraid to touch. “Do you like my ass?” she asks, rising from her seat. You and your wife squeeze her firm buttocks, pausing only to hide your pleasure from the angry eyes of the sex gestapo. Only now can you be certain of the young lady’s intentions. Wrap your arms around her. “We should go somewhere more comfortable,” she says in easily decipherable code. Everything is automagic now.
6.3 miles. 22 minutes. As the city scrolls by and your hand slides up the girl’s leg you catch yourself wondering how many times the cabbie has seen this. Drop your wife off at the bodega around the corner. Hand your credit card to your new playmate. The two of you laugh as she fumbles around in the dark trying to find the slot.
All you wanted was her number.
People think you are brilliant with women. You are clueless like everyone else.
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Philip Clark | Nov 2, 10:21 PM | #
That entry was great.
People talk all the time about “skills” but sometimes the ability to simply relax and allow good things to happen seems like ninety percent of the skill.