return on your investment, is that it?
That’s a very crude way of putting it, he says.
Am I wrong? I go.
I don’t really mind that he’s not the guy I thought he was or that he has more hair on the back of his hands than on his head or even that he’s wearing this big tacky Rolex President, but there isn’t a bed in the world that’s big enough for me and his ego both.
You liked me in L.A., he says.
But I’m sober now, I go.
He pins me back against the door. I know you want me, he says.
I’m like, I don’t believe this shit.
You want me, I can tell.
This is great, it’s like, so typical, girls always think they’re less attractive than they actually are and guys always think they’re more attractive. I didn’t want to say anything before, but really, this Bradley is a toad. He’d have to be really rich or really powerful or really famous to look even halfway decent. And even then . . .
Come on, I know you want to, he’s going.
How can you tell? I go. I’m dying to know.
I know women, he says. I go, right, like I know Swahili. He’s got me pinned against the door and then he latches on to me with his horrible bony little mouth, I mean you could get paper cuts from this guy’s lips and I don’t even want to mention his tongue, we’re talking reptile, it reminds me of this diagram I saw once in a magazine about these lamprey eels that glom on to salmon and suck their insides out. Meanwhile he’s tryingto force my legs apart with his knee. I can’t believe the nerve of this guy, it would almost be funny if it wasn’t so disgusting, but luckily I’ve still got Jeannie’s brooch in my hand. I open it up and sink the pin into Bradley’s butt. He screams and jumps back like I’m on fire and while he’s trying to figure out what happened I slip in the door and run upstairs.
I call Dean and get his machine.
I know how I’m going to get rich, I’m going to invent a device that will destroy answering machines over the phone—you just push a button and boom, the thing blows up.
I vaguely remember hearing Jeannie come and go early in the morning. A little after noon she calls me up from Hilton Head.
Sure enough, she walked in on Frank and some bimbo in bed. Everything that wasn’t nailed down she threw at them. Then she went after them with a tennis racket. When Frank’s new honey ran out into the hall naked Jeannie put her clothes in the trash compactor and compacted them into all the beer cans and watermelon rinds. This nice little Ralph Lauren ensemble, right? There was a champagne bottle next to the bed left over from Frank’s big romantic evening and Jeannie clubbed him over the head with it. He was bleeding pretty nicely when she left and now she’s at the airport coming back home. I get her flight information and tell her I’ll meet her at the airport.
Before I leave I call up Dean and he answers. I explain about Jeannie and tell him I’ll have to cancel. She’s going to need me tonight, I go.
Hey, I understand, he says.
She’s really hurt, I go, she’s been screwed over. I know it’s not rational but it’s like I’m blaming Dean, maybe because he’s a man, maybe because he was out when I called last night.
Give her a hug for me, he says.
And I’m like, what’s that supposed to mean, honey pie?
And he goes, just a friendly sympathetic kind of hug. On second thought, he says, why don’t you make that a nasty, frigid kind of hug.
So how was your night last night? I go.
Group sex and intravenous drugs, he says. Nothing special.
Special enough to keep you out past two-thirty, I think, because that was the last time I called before I finally fell asleep, but for a change I decide to keep my mouth shut. Right now my main concern is Jeannie. I want to be there for her because she’ll be there for me when Dean and his replacement and the guy after that are all history. Ancient history.
6
Two Lies
I’m supposed to be on a beach again, imagining intense heat and
That’s a very crude way of putting it, he says.
Am I wrong? I go.
I don’t really mind that he’s not the guy I thought he was or that he has more hair on the back of his hands than on his head or even that he’s wearing this big tacky Rolex President, but there isn’t a bed in the world that’s big enough for me and his ego both.
You liked me in L.A., he says.
But I’m sober now, I go.
He pins me back against the door. I know you want me, he says.
I’m like, I don’t believe this shit.
You want me, I can tell.
This is great, it’s like, so typical, girls always think they’re less attractive than they actually are and guys always think they’re more attractive. I didn’t want to say anything before, but really, this Bradley is a toad. He’d have to be really rich or really powerful or really famous to look even halfway decent. And even then . . .
Come on, I know you want to, he’s going.
How can you tell? I go. I’m dying to know.
I know women, he says. I go, right, like I know Swahili. He’s got me pinned against the door and then he latches on to me with his horrible bony little mouth, I mean you could get paper cuts from this guy’s lips and I don’t even want to mention his tongue, we’re talking reptile, it reminds me of this diagram I saw once in a magazine about these lamprey eels that glom on to salmon and suck their insides out. Meanwhile he’s tryingto force my legs apart with his knee. I can’t believe the nerve of this guy, it would almost be funny if it wasn’t so disgusting, but luckily I’ve still got Jeannie’s brooch in my hand. I open it up and sink the pin into Bradley’s butt. He screams and jumps back like I’m on fire and while he’s trying to figure out what happened I slip in the door and run upstairs.
I call Dean and get his machine.
I know how I’m going to get rich, I’m going to invent a device that will destroy answering machines over the phone—you just push a button and boom, the thing blows up.
I vaguely remember hearing Jeannie come and go early in the morning. A little after noon she calls me up from Hilton Head.
Sure enough, she walked in on Frank and some bimbo in bed. Everything that wasn’t nailed down she threw at them. Then she went after them with a tennis racket. When Frank’s new honey ran out into the hall naked Jeannie put her clothes in the trash compactor and compacted them into all the beer cans and watermelon rinds. This nice little Ralph Lauren ensemble, right? There was a champagne bottle next to the bed left over from Frank’s big romantic evening and Jeannie clubbed him over the head with it. He was bleeding pretty nicely when she left and now she’s at the airport coming back home. I get her flight information and tell her I’ll meet her at the airport.
Before I leave I call up Dean and he answers. I explain about Jeannie and tell him I’ll have to cancel. She’s going to need me tonight, I go.
Hey, I understand, he says.
She’s really hurt, I go, she’s been screwed over. I know it’s not rational but it’s like I’m blaming Dean, maybe because he’s a man, maybe because he was out when I called last night.
Give her a hug for me, he says.
And I’m like, what’s that supposed to mean, honey pie?
And he goes, just a friendly sympathetic kind of hug. On second thought, he says, why don’t you make that a nasty, frigid kind of hug.
So how was your night last night? I go.
Group sex and intravenous drugs, he says. Nothing special.
Special enough to keep you out past two-thirty, I think, because that was the last time I called before I finally fell asleep, but for a change I decide to keep my mouth shut. Right now my main concern is Jeannie. I want to be there for her because she’ll be there for me when Dean and his replacement and the guy after that are all history. Ancient history.
6
Two Lies
I’m supposed to be on a beach again, imagining intense heat and
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