immensely satisfying.
I looked over the list. Items one and two looked pretty doable. With the help of the Internet, I could at least get started on three and four.
Item five I had waited seven years for. I could afford to wait a while longer.
My first to-do, talking to Roger Folds, I might be able to make short order of. Feeling pumped from the gym, I walked to The Stuff of Life for my morning shift. By the time I got there, the summer heat had deflated my pump, soaked through my shirt, and left me a sweaty mess. Yuck.
I got to The Stuff of Life early and headed straight to Roger’s office. The door was closed. I knocked, once quietly, once with a little more oomph. No answer.
Next I went to see Vicki. She was sitting with her feet up on her desk, back to the door, phone held to her ear. Black cowboy shirt, black jeans, black boots. Black hair slicked back like Elvis. She was talking on the phone. “So I said to her, ‘listen honey, I wouldn’t eat her pussy with your mouth,’ and she said …”
I tapped on the door to let her know I was there.
Vicki held up a finger.
“Hey, listen, someone’s at the door. I’l cal you back later. Yeah, love you too, Mom.” She hung up the phone.
“Jesus,” I said, “you talk to your mother like that?”
“Please,” Vicki rol ed her eyes, “once my mother found out I was a dyke, she got more interested in lesbianism than I am. She read every book she could find on the subject, rented Desert Hearts, and begged me to take her to a gay bar.”
“Did you?”
“Of course! She had a great time. Haven’t you ever taken your mother out?”
“We went to the supermarket last night.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Listen, there’s not a gay bar in New York big enough to hold me and my mother.”
“You should try it. Maybe you guys could come out with me and my mom sometime. Who knows, maybe our moms wil hook up.”
I put my fingers in my ears. “La, la, la, la …”
“OK,” Vicki said, laughing, “I take it back. So, if you didn’t come here looking to hook your mother up with some hot lesbo action, what does bring you my way?”
I explained that I was looking for Roger Folds.
“Wel , don’t look here,” Vick answered. “He quit.”
“When?”
“Yesterday. He said he never wants to come back, either. Just asked if someone could bring his personal stuff to his apartment.” Vicki pointed to a cardboard box sitting on her floor. “That’s it over there. He doesn’t live too far from me, so I figured I’d do it. Give me a chance to tel him what an asshole I think he is.”
“Listen,” I said, “think you could tel him in a letter?
Cause I’d really like to see him.”
“Can’t imagine why. But if you wanna deliver his shit, be my guest. Just be sure to send my disregards.”
“Thanks. I’l pick it up when I’m done.” I kissed Vicki on the cheek. “Tel your Mom I said ‘hi.’”
“Hey, tel her yourself when your mother brings her home for Christmas. As her date.”
“Ewwwww.”
My talk with Vicki had taken longer than I expected. I had to hurry to the kitchen to get today’s volunteers started on the meal preparation. I was racing down the hal way, not real y looking where I was going, when I ran smack into a wal . “Oomph!”
“Sorry,” the wal mumbled.
“It’s OK,” I said, realizing that the wal , in fact, was a woman. Not a heavy woman, but large and solidly built, with the muscles of a high-school footbal player.
Our eyes met with a flash of recognition. The Wal blushed and looked down at her feet.
“Lori,” a voice cal ed from down the hal way, catching up to us, “I got the papers we need and …” The tal er, thinner woman recognized me immediately. “Oh!” she said. “Hel o. Connor, right?”
“Kevin,” I corrected her. “I met you two …”
“At the reading of Al en’s wil ,” she finished my sentence. “I’m May. And this,” she said gesturing towards to her companion, “is
I looked over the list. Items one and two looked pretty doable. With the help of the Internet, I could at least get started on three and four.
Item five I had waited seven years for. I could afford to wait a while longer.
My first to-do, talking to Roger Folds, I might be able to make short order of. Feeling pumped from the gym, I walked to The Stuff of Life for my morning shift. By the time I got there, the summer heat had deflated my pump, soaked through my shirt, and left me a sweaty mess. Yuck.
I got to The Stuff of Life early and headed straight to Roger’s office. The door was closed. I knocked, once quietly, once with a little more oomph. No answer.
Next I went to see Vicki. She was sitting with her feet up on her desk, back to the door, phone held to her ear. Black cowboy shirt, black jeans, black boots. Black hair slicked back like Elvis. She was talking on the phone. “So I said to her, ‘listen honey, I wouldn’t eat her pussy with your mouth,’ and she said …”
I tapped on the door to let her know I was there.
Vicki held up a finger.
“Hey, listen, someone’s at the door. I’l cal you back later. Yeah, love you too, Mom.” She hung up the phone.
“Jesus,” I said, “you talk to your mother like that?”
“Please,” Vicki rol ed her eyes, “once my mother found out I was a dyke, she got more interested in lesbianism than I am. She read every book she could find on the subject, rented Desert Hearts, and begged me to take her to a gay bar.”
“Did you?”
“Of course! She had a great time. Haven’t you ever taken your mother out?”
“We went to the supermarket last night.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Listen, there’s not a gay bar in New York big enough to hold me and my mother.”
“You should try it. Maybe you guys could come out with me and my mom sometime. Who knows, maybe our moms wil hook up.”
I put my fingers in my ears. “La, la, la, la …”
“OK,” Vicki said, laughing, “I take it back. So, if you didn’t come here looking to hook your mother up with some hot lesbo action, what does bring you my way?”
I explained that I was looking for Roger Folds.
“Wel , don’t look here,” Vick answered. “He quit.”
“When?”
“Yesterday. He said he never wants to come back, either. Just asked if someone could bring his personal stuff to his apartment.” Vicki pointed to a cardboard box sitting on her floor. “That’s it over there. He doesn’t live too far from me, so I figured I’d do it. Give me a chance to tel him what an asshole I think he is.”
“Listen,” I said, “think you could tel him in a letter?
Cause I’d really like to see him.”
“Can’t imagine why. But if you wanna deliver his shit, be my guest. Just be sure to send my disregards.”
“Thanks. I’l pick it up when I’m done.” I kissed Vicki on the cheek. “Tel your Mom I said ‘hi.’”
“Hey, tel her yourself when your mother brings her home for Christmas. As her date.”
“Ewwwww.”
My talk with Vicki had taken longer than I expected. I had to hurry to the kitchen to get today’s volunteers started on the meal preparation. I was racing down the hal way, not real y looking where I was going, when I ran smack into a wal . “Oomph!”
“Sorry,” the wal mumbled.
“It’s OK,” I said, realizing that the wal , in fact, was a woman. Not a heavy woman, but large and solidly built, with the muscles of a high-school footbal player.
Our eyes met with a flash of recognition. The Wal blushed and looked down at her feet.
“Lori,” a voice cal ed from down the hal way, catching up to us, “I got the papers we need and …” The tal er, thinner woman recognized me immediately. “Oh!” she said. “Hel o. Connor, right?”
“Kevin,” I corrected her. “I met you two …”
“At the reading of Al en’s wil ,” she finished my sentence. “I’m May. And this,” she said gesturing towards to her companion, “is
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