Wednesday, January 22, 2014

32 - Paris Getaway

     "This, you asshole," said Paris.  "This is what I am talking about!"  She looked good sitting on her porch.  She was wearing a baby blue sweat suit, white baseball cap, glasses, and white sneakers with no socks.
     "You write maybe two or three of these short stories and then you disappear for two or three months.  You could be dead and no one would know about it for weeks."
     "Good to see you t.."
     "Asshole!"
     "I brought you coffee and cigarettes.  Lite and sweet, and a pack of Marlboro lights, correct?"
     I set the coffee and cigarettes on her little table and sat down on the seat next to it.  I have a love hate relationship with Paris's apartment.  I love the fact that no one knows I'm there.  I like the leather couch in the living room but I don't like the overall space.  I told her that once and her response was typical Paris "You don't live here so don't worry about it."
     I liked hanging out with Paris because we had come to the quiet realization a long time ago that there would be no sex.  The topic never came up.  Never will.  No reason to.  The closest we would come would be a one sided massage (I hate getting massages).
     "I may as well be dead.  No one calls except for you, Terry, and Marrianne.  Terry lives above a church, and Marrianne lives in Boston so you know I never see them."
     I took a slow deep drag of my freshly lit American Spirit and let the smoke cascade out of my mouth like the clouds from the heavens gates.
     "So if no one calls then you have more time to write, right?" She said slowly sipping her coffee.
     "It's just that I...I..." Another deep drag.  "It's...There's so much to write about I don't know where to start.  Between the house, getting transferred back to this shitty CT office, and the music I can't organize enough to know where to start.
     "And this is important to me how?"  She took off her hat and shook some life into her newly freed hair.
     "That means you get more free cigarettes, free coffee, and the pleasure of my company."  The slick smile cut across my face like a hot knife through butter.
     "Asshole!"


That Beautiful Black Man

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