In Over Her Head by Elsie Russell - Parnasse.com

THE WILIS
From Ula's studio, "I don't need you, I don't need a man, I have
a thousand virtual me's, who needs you!" The door slammed and a
chain of growled funcullo's retreated to the elevator. After that there
were no more joint practice sessions.
With beach season in mind to chase away the blues Penny
bought a real bathing suit at the fancy Euro lingerie shop next to
Chanel on Greene Street, because it was just around the corner, and
because the kid sizes at sporting shops and in the catalogues were too
tight in the boobs now. The one-piece was soft teal with a raw edged
opera neckline and it cost three hundred dollars on the platinum. Back
at her place she changed into it, pulled an old pair of cutoffs, and
slipped on her radioactive green flip flops. The day was overcast and
unseasonably warm, in the high nineties, and thunderstorms were
forecast for later. But that made it the perfect beach day, because the
riff raff were afraid of lightening, and the lifeguards weren't yet there,
so it would be deserted.
She stuffed her pocket with her Metrocard, the platinum and a
fifty in a ziplock bag and rang the elevator. Sandro was in the elevator.
He'd missed the stop, accidentally or on purpose, maybe lost in his
ironclad private fantasies, and leaned against the steel, drunk as a skunk.
"And where are you going, almost naked?"
"The beach."
"It is cloudy and is going to rain."
"Yup."
"Coney Island?"
"Of course. You look like shit, got the birthday blues?"
He nodded.
"Come with me, then."
"I would love to, but I must buy a cake."
"They're supposed to buy the cake!"
"Can I get you a taxi?"
"I'm taking the F train, it's air conditioned."
"I walk with you."
They walked up Mercer as he smoked a cigarette and looked
down her suit.
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