I will not freak out without my shirt on again.
“You having a party?” the fishmonger asks.
“Sort of,” I say.
After I got some parsley and sparkling water, I brought the fish back to my place. I love to eat, but I hate to eat alone. So sometimes I like to add a little ceremony to my solitude.
When I get home, I change into my sweats, put a little D’Angelo on the stereo and take out the silver platter Lauryn got for her wedding and arrange my shrimp cocktail around the center dish of cocktail sauce. I garnish with parsley. I pour my sparkling water into a champagne glass (another gift someone was regretting giving the couple now) and dance my way into the living room. I eat all twenty-three of my shrimp and thoroughly enjoy my cocktail party for one. There is plenty of time for friends and boys. This is me time. I am proud of myself and my work. No one could make me feel otherwise.
When the CD ends, I make myself some cocoa with schnapps and watch the eleven o’clock Friends episode.
There really isn’t much more I can ask for.
7
We’re Going To Be Friends
L ife is funny. One night you might be sipping sparkling water and eating shrimp by yourself and the next night you could be getting served crispy, Indian-fusion delicacies while a hot guy rubs his knuckles along your neck and buys you expensive big-girl drinks called Tablatinis.
One night you might be considering a booty call to your recently exed boyfriend and the next you might be worried that all of the West Village might hear you getting down with the new guy.
So yes, my life is full of surprises and some of them are very, very nice. For example, I never expected to be back in Seamus’s apartment, but it didn’t matter, I was having a good time.
Okay, so it was kind of weird afterward…you know, afterward …and I wasn’t sure if I should stay. I couldn’t really look him in the eye as I rehooked my bra. Seamus suggested I stay but I left. There are things you have to try to hide with someone new as long as possible. Frankly, I was tired of trying to position myself so Seamus would get my best angle.
“Did you?” he said throughout the whole thing. “Did you yet?”
It was a lot of pressure. Now, I certainly appreciated his efforts, but it takes some time for me to relax, you know. The night had gone so well and I guess I thought I might ruin it, by, I don’t know, screaming Tommy’s name (I swear I didn’t think that much about him this time) or making some ugly face, or God knows what. But I didn’t. Ruin it, that is. That’s why it’s better to quit while you’re ahead.
All and all I felt I crossed a bridge of sorts. I was now a single woman and back in the saddle. I held my head up high when I crept out of Seamus’s building and quickly hailed a cab.
Lauryn is up working on an essay when I get home. She is also smoking in the house.
“Are you taking that up again?” I ask.
“Why not? You want one?”
“I did just have sex,” I say. She holds up her hand limply and I smack it five. We smile. I take a cigarette. It makes me feel a little sick, but I work through it. I have just had sex, I am entitled.
“How was it?”
“It was fun.” She raises an eyebrow. I know what she wants. “No, I didn’t, but it was still fun.”
“Working that Tommy out of your system?”
“I’m trying. I know it’s over. It’s just not easy.”
“I know. I heard about his offer. You want a drink? I can’t write this stupid essay application crap anymore.” I probably shouldn’t, I have work tomorrow, but it has been too long since we hung out like this. I can’t resist.
“Okay, just one.” I watch her pour some Stoli Vanilla into a glass and add some ginger ale. “Nice. Did you talk to Tommy?”
“No,” she says. “Beth.”
“Really?”
“She’s getting into an interesting crowd.”
“Those studio people.” She nods and taps her nose.
“Is she okay?”
“I guess so—you know Beth.” I do. Everyone
“You having a party?” the fishmonger asks.
“Sort of,” I say.
After I got some parsley and sparkling water, I brought the fish back to my place. I love to eat, but I hate to eat alone. So sometimes I like to add a little ceremony to my solitude.
When I get home, I change into my sweats, put a little D’Angelo on the stereo and take out the silver platter Lauryn got for her wedding and arrange my shrimp cocktail around the center dish of cocktail sauce. I garnish with parsley. I pour my sparkling water into a champagne glass (another gift someone was regretting giving the couple now) and dance my way into the living room. I eat all twenty-three of my shrimp and thoroughly enjoy my cocktail party for one. There is plenty of time for friends and boys. This is me time. I am proud of myself and my work. No one could make me feel otherwise.
When the CD ends, I make myself some cocoa with schnapps and watch the eleven o’clock Friends episode.
There really isn’t much more I can ask for.
7
We’re Going To Be Friends
L ife is funny. One night you might be sipping sparkling water and eating shrimp by yourself and the next night you could be getting served crispy, Indian-fusion delicacies while a hot guy rubs his knuckles along your neck and buys you expensive big-girl drinks called Tablatinis.
One night you might be considering a booty call to your recently exed boyfriend and the next you might be worried that all of the West Village might hear you getting down with the new guy.
So yes, my life is full of surprises and some of them are very, very nice. For example, I never expected to be back in Seamus’s apartment, but it didn’t matter, I was having a good time.
Okay, so it was kind of weird afterward…you know, afterward …and I wasn’t sure if I should stay. I couldn’t really look him in the eye as I rehooked my bra. Seamus suggested I stay but I left. There are things you have to try to hide with someone new as long as possible. Frankly, I was tired of trying to position myself so Seamus would get my best angle.
“Did you?” he said throughout the whole thing. “Did you yet?”
It was a lot of pressure. Now, I certainly appreciated his efforts, but it takes some time for me to relax, you know. The night had gone so well and I guess I thought I might ruin it, by, I don’t know, screaming Tommy’s name (I swear I didn’t think that much about him this time) or making some ugly face, or God knows what. But I didn’t. Ruin it, that is. That’s why it’s better to quit while you’re ahead.
All and all I felt I crossed a bridge of sorts. I was now a single woman and back in the saddle. I held my head up high when I crept out of Seamus’s building and quickly hailed a cab.
Lauryn is up working on an essay when I get home. She is also smoking in the house.
“Are you taking that up again?” I ask.
“Why not? You want one?”
“I did just have sex,” I say. She holds up her hand limply and I smack it five. We smile. I take a cigarette. It makes me feel a little sick, but I work through it. I have just had sex, I am entitled.
“How was it?”
“It was fun.” She raises an eyebrow. I know what she wants. “No, I didn’t, but it was still fun.”
“Working that Tommy out of your system?”
“I’m trying. I know it’s over. It’s just not easy.”
“I know. I heard about his offer. You want a drink? I can’t write this stupid essay application crap anymore.” I probably shouldn’t, I have work tomorrow, but it has been too long since we hung out like this. I can’t resist.
“Okay, just one.” I watch her pour some Stoli Vanilla into a glass and add some ginger ale. “Nice. Did you talk to Tommy?”
“No,” she says. “Beth.”
“Really?”
“She’s getting into an interesting crowd.”
“Those studio people.” She nods and taps her nose.
“Is she okay?”
“I guess so—you know Beth.” I do. Everyone
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