Lucia, Rafe and Pia; girls night in, a 20th anniversary of sorts

for some reason you’re new to Courting, don’t even try to understand. Think of it as the neighborhood restaurant that Zagats gave a 28 to food, and you never know what you will be served but it will great. We’re, me, my computer Savannah and our imaginary dog Toto, great company except when we’re not, and we don’t serve pigs feet. Not Kosher but actually don’t like most meat; do love seafood. Will work for comments; we might want a comment whore award someday.

Would like to thank everybody who went through our recent metaphysical breakdown with us. It was caused by a convergence of events: a full moon, January itself when we have to look at the 1099’s and very professionally throw them into a manila envelope where they usually wait until sometime in late March when we tally all the figures and send them to the accountant with a plea to be kind. This year we would like to do it in late February just to say that we can. And of course Oprah not apologizing for condoning James Frey’s lies. His lies almost sent us off the edge as he sent himself to the bank with much more money. Oh right the worst case Aspergers lawyer on Boston Legal; we still love James Spader. We’re better now; we need more downtime though not sure about best friend time

Do your best friends call, separately to announce that they will be over in twenty minutes? Mine do; almost every Thursday night. Rafe calls almost every Tuesday night to announce that he just found parking on the next block; and Lucia usually comes Friday night. I should have this down to a science and actually buy food and stuff. But why? Food, almost any food is just a phone call and twenty to forty minutes away. As I have a cute but non-operational kitchen this works out well.

My apartment’s filled with pinks and blues; people tend to feel very calm. Some have been known to fall asleep; some just can’t shut up.

Twenty years ago this week, Lucia began temporary work as a receptionist in the hair salon coop Rafe was a member of–on Madison, second floor, across the Avenue from Sharper Image which I thought of as a shop for rich boys then. How could I have known I would one day answer my phone; “Sharper Image Warehouse; hello?”

She called to tell me about an incredible hair stylist. I had to come over immediately. As I only lived about eight blocks away, and was home, I came over. Rafe was gorgeous; we would call him the Latin Elvis, meaning the Sun Studio days when Elvis did radiate heat, I think. Don’t remember life before Elvis; and by the time I was thirteen, the Stones had changed my life. Never listened to Elvis except for the Sun Sessions.

My first memory of Rafe is of him sliding his hand down my back; I discretely slapped him. Rafe’s straight, married and has a daughter in law school. He’s aged better than Elvis and is a year younger than Elvis was when he died.

How Lucia and I changed Rafe from a man who thought women were good for adornment, cooking and sex, not necessarily in that order is a long story.

Lucia separated from her fourth husband but the only one she had a child with, when Little Luce was three. No way could she go out without Little Luce; I was in grad school and had classes on the West Side every Thursday; it was Rafe’s late night. Somehow we established a tradition of Thursday night girls night in. We order in, and talk. Rafe’s clients and most people think of him as a distinguished ultra luxe groomed Latin male, who is knowledgeable, polite, listens and doesn’t argue; I think of him as the reincarnation of any 80 year old Jewish male. Why?

Rafe pontificates; he has an opinion on any subject whether he knows about it or not. As many of his clients are in news or make news, he does have to be current which is why he has six TVs in his house, he watches each for ten minutes as he exercises in front of the TV’s. When he speaks to most clients; he is the epitome of class, wit, ever the equal yet allows them to win the argument.

When he’s with his patron; the woman who bought him his first chair in a salon, he’s almost rude because she is to most people. Sometimes he’s blatantly rude; she loves it. During the transit strike she sent her car and driver to pick him up from the Miami Vice style condo on the marina near Glen Island in New Rochelle. Glen Island had a speakeasy and a casino, I assume during prohibition.

Rafe’s patron seems to have many family weddings in Europe and the Vineyard that need Rafe’s nimble fingers. Most big hair stylists that I know or have known, and I have known many do the majority of their work at their clients homes. Rafe has another patron who currently lives in Paris. I didn’t know him when he first met Elayne and Lora, but Rafe told me one very drunken night that they accidentally met when they both showed up at his first salon. They don’t get along and are constantly trying to buy him better presents.

I make Rafe sound like a gigolo and maybe he is; his own wife wears a condom when she sleeps with him. His wife, Tatiana is Russian, lithe, tiny, and has had every procedure I can think of, bar a face reconstruction and weight loss operations; she’s 42 and a party animal of the brazilian degree. We have much fun when we’re all together; Tatiana is a closet intellectual who reads constantly. They both told me, but not together, about the condom thing.

Can’t say I blame her. That is the one area we don’t talk about. I think Lucia and are the two people he can be totally himself with. And we’ll probably spend all year celebrating 20 years of one of the best platoanic threesomes in the world; maybe the best.

We know everything there is to know about the othe, except our sex lives, though the topic itself isn’t off limits; and no we have never shagged, as Cooper called it. Yick; incest isn’t best.

Have to go; Lucia just came over.