Issue #20 (2011) PDF - myweb - Long Island University

―You got a woman‖ he said looking at the strings.
―I have many women,‖ I had said laughing and downed my beer.
I had looked at his face behind the bottom of the beer bottle that I was holding next to my
mouth. He wasn‘t laughing.
―Many women equals to no women. You‘ll end up lonely‖ he said seriously. He looked like
he pitied me. It was an awkward moment. He hadn‘t seemed like the type that would care. I had
never seen him with any women. Then he pulled out his wallet and shown me the pictures of his
fourteen years old girl and twelve years old son. He had been married for sixteen years. We didn't
talk much that night. I left his apartment after eight beers because he kindly told me his wife and
children would be back from their visit from the auntie‘s any time. He picked up the beer cans and
put them in a trash bag. Then he called for a cab for me and punched me in the shoulder for
goodbye. We were friends.
As I was listening to her feet touch the ground gently, I thought of the day we met. I had
been attending to the Basement Project meetings about a month or two perhaps when I saw her
sitting in the front row. She didn‘t talk to anyone and looked at the curtain as if someone in the
movie was getting hurt which was true, actually. Since Paul had strict rules about approaching the
female members I waited until the film was over to talk to her. She told me she was a writer and
doing her master‘s thesis on pornography. I told her I was a writer too. I had been writing screen
plays and working on a collection of short stories. ―Interesting,‖ she said with an uninterested voice.
We went to an Indian restaurant in the city on our first date. The place had a heavy curry
smell, of course. I wasn‘t a fan of spicy food but she had told me she liked Indian cuisine, so I took
her there. We talked about movies and books. She said Charles Bukowski‘s arrogance annoyed her
that was why she liked him. She worshiped Kafka. She had been working on a children‘s book. We
drank wine. She kept touching her hair which might mean she was bored or she liked me. I regretted
not reading the article in one of Paul‘s magazines about how to know that chicks like you by reading
their body language. Her blushed cheeks told me that she liked me then I remembered it was so hot
inside the restaurant and we were eating spicy food. She took off her scarf. Her neck was beautiful,
probably her most beautiful feature. She had olive complexion and dark blonde locks falling on her
shoulders. Her neck looked like unearthed treasure. It was hard to tell if she liked me. I was
spending my last fifty dollars on that dinner and I had spent all day cleaning my apartment. She
better fucking like me, I thought when she reached for naan and dipped it in the chicken masala.
Her funny accent sounded even funnier when she got drunk. It was hard to understand what
she was saying. She occasionally started a sentence in her native language and switched to English
by the end of the sentence.
―You will rescue me from my loneliness, right She said gulping the wine in her glass. She
didn‘t look at my face. She was staring at somewhere between the tandoori chicken and salad plates.
I hesitated for a moment. Was she talking to me or the tandoori chicken There was a pause.
―I think you should have more food.‖
She frowned and poured some more wine in her glass.
―I'll be worthy right Only when you realize the gem I am‖ she said stabbing a piece of
chicken. Her hand holding the fork was jittery.
―We are just having dinner, for God‘s sake!‖ Now, I was looking at the plates too. For a
moment, I thought of excusing myself to go to the bathroom, then asking for the check, and calling
for two cabs to go in different directions. That would be it. I don‘t need this. I can go home and jerk
off. What the fuck is wrong with women You take one out for dinner and the wedding bells start
ringing in their heads. If only some men had pussies, the world would have been a nicer place, I
thought. The restaurant was very hot. We had been sitting there for hours. My butt was hurting. The
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