[i]
Waking up a little after 10 a.m. Margot lies next to me,
both of us restless because of the heat index in my room. Something’s wrong
with the AC. Despite I still snuggle up next to her – spooning. All night I’ve
had a boner. I guess that’s normal when I’m really comfortable and when lying
next to her. Her backside. No pants or shorts. Just panties. Her precious
bottom in full bloom. I literally can’t restrain myself from touching. I don’t
know how to have control when I’m with her. There’s just this lustful fire that
consumes me, turning me into a sex-crazed animal.
Banana. Orange Juice.
All day shift at China Wok.
Hot.
Peanut Butter Bagel. Tortilla Chips with Fresh Guacamole.
Pomegranate Cherry Ade.
The daytime is busy for deliveries. I find myself without a
break. Pick up and go. Meanwhile I find time to chat with Kristin on the phone.
She confesses to hanging out with this guy friend of hers last night after I
left and spending the night with him, but nothing happened of significance
except for cuddling. During a conversation break I ponder on this and make a
deal with her that we leave all information like this out until we are
exclusive because I feel it taints the current happenings and growth of the
relationship. I think this is fair, and also considering I have my own
confessions I could make but again, I don’t want those encounters to interfere
with the process. If I were to choose to be in a committed relationship with
Kristin I would without hesitation cut off all ties with Margot and any other
significant female others. But there is still uncertainty and until that
uncertainty goes away I am unattached.
Snacking on Vegan Banana Chocolate Chip Muffins.
Working with an older Russian guy for the night shift. He’s
very talkative and has a bucket of stories to tell. He goes on about his other
delivery jobs in the early 90’s, how they used a CB radio system and had house
parties twice a year at his boss’s place.
The night continues. Kristin had planned on coming to see me
tonight to give me some pictures she obtained from her thrift shopping earlier
today. It’s after 10 p.m. I should be off work but of course we get a slew of
orders. Kristin hops into the passenger seat and accompanies me on the last leg
of my shift.
...
I rant to her my China Wok complaints. She always proves to
be a great distraction from the delivery-driver struggles, smiling big and
making fun of me.
...
Delivering an order on Sandy Court just past 12th
street and Parks Avenue. I jump out of the car and run down the long narrow
stretch of the apartment corridor. I return.
Me: “Did you catch that? That was a total Wes Anderson
shot!”
...
Her: “I’ve never seen delivery drivers who sprint to
customer’s doors. You’re just slinging bags of Chinese food.”
Me: “Yeah this isn’t pizza delivery. It’s the Asian sense of
urgency.”
Finally off. Back home.
Hot and Sour Soup with Fried Noodles. Spring Rolls. Shrimp
Egg Roll.
Darren had called to inform me its Lauren, our old
nanny/roommate’s birthday and they’re all celebrating at Mermaids. So Kristin
and I head over there. I’m a strip club virgin so this is a new experience for
me. We were told to tell the bouncer, “Ron Burgundy,” a code word to get us a
pink wristband for cheaper drinks. Brandon happens to be the bouncer – he used
to go to my church when we were young – he recognizes me. It’s interesting that
we would cross paths here. I’m out of my element, but not so much. Darren,
James Graves, and Richie are here. Lauren spots me, yells at the top of her
lungs and smothers me with hugs. Gin and Tonics. PBR’s. Green, streaming,
sparkle, flashing. Young birds adorned with lingerie and scandalous attire
dance and contort their bodies in ways you don’t see on a regular basis. I feel
like I’m in a gangster movie and I should be conducting deals at a round table
and slipping bills to the waitress’s hip. This isn’t your typical Navy men
joint but a more hip alternative club, but still a place where objectifying
women isn’t just okay but rewarded. It’s business. I mean this isn’t any
different than other social events or parties or clubs. The game is the same I
suppose. But here I am taking it all in. Admiring the curvy bodies swinging
around the poles and flapping their legs in front of drooling men.
...
Out on the smoking patio. Darren is chatting with two dudes
he used to know from middle school. He jokingly presents me to everyone as this
mysterious creature...
Darren: “This species of hipster lives to be 3000 years old.
He was actually a hipster pharaoh. He even designed one of the pyramids!”
I chime in retort, “Okay Darren! I may be the grandfather of
a hipster commune but let’s remember you’re the grandfather of hipster thought!
Don’t leave yourself out of it.”
...
Kristin and I head back home. I’m socially and physically
exhausted. But she’s the total opposite: hungry for affection and sexual
satisfaction. Straddling me and smothering me with sweet kisses. It’s been a
while since we’ve had sex. But to be honest I’m just not feeling it. I need to
rest and decompress from all the noise of the day. As well I’m a little
battered from last week’s uncertain behavior and distance. And then my run-in
with Margot kind of complicated the senses. At any rate, I plop down on my bed.
After Kristin leaves I don’t even change positions and fall dead asleep with
all the lights on around 2:30 a.m.
[i] Image from
Cavalier Magazine Nov1965.
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