It’s the fifth rainy day in a row, and they’re doing drilling. In some Upper East Side buildings they’re only allowed to do apartment construction during the summer, when people used to be away.
But all this brick work is new, and I believe allowed to be done everywhere whenever.
People were being killed by falling bricks. But this is the inner courtyard, and the second time they have done it in five years. It interferes with our cable service–Internet mostly, and puts me in the weird position of liking pouring rain, for a day or two.
This is a price you pay for living in a pre-war, before World War Two building, and I couldn’t imagine living in any other kind. But I’m beginning to.
I would like to introduce a family member’s blog. Lizzy is my sister’s s-i-l, rocket scientist boyfriend’s daughter. These days that makes her very close family. She has a great job in advertising, and is an extraordinarily talented artist. She does have a boyfriend. And Only A Girl, which does come up from the link, has some very funny material, all based on only a girl….
Bone doesn’t have his three word Wednesday exercise up yet. So I will write mine now, in the grand tradition of migodI’mactuallydoingsomethingwhenitshouldbedone. f you wish to be plugged on Courting, be a family member or send me an email explaining why you are worthy 🙂 No, read my no-comment post on comments.
If you reach the end, you will see something personally important to me. Many people would have comment parties for this, but I’m lousy at them, and think that only the truly talented comment moderators should have them
This is an exercise. It’s written quickly and not edited.
Sometime in the late 80’s Manhattan
Annabel came home from work and ripped off her red & black jacket, sleeveless A-line go anywhere black dress and threw them onto the pink flamingo chair and a half. She cursed the inventor of pantyhose. It landed near her deco, lavender swivel slip chair. The black Nike’s actually went into the closet though not on the shoe rack.
When she took a long hot Waterpik Massage shower, all she could think about was having passionate raw sex with a stranger. To do that these days was to court possible death so Annabel thought about all the straight single men she knew.
Warren was too nice. JoeyD wanted a commitment. Aaron was being saved for possible real date material. James talked about his family too much. When she was with him, she was convinced that Freud had been partially right and some people did bring their parents to bed with them. That was it. The entire list of straight single men she could take to her bed. It was depressing.
Annabel put on too much makeup. She didn’t really need much but this was a fun part of the evening. Black eyeliner, silver sequined eye shadow, and redder than red lipstick.
She put on Japanese raw silk pants that fit almost as leggings but were roomy and had a beautiful design at the bottom of each leg, a black silk jacket, black fishnet anklets and black sandals. In her left ear she had four Marcasite or diamond studs, and put in a Marcasite dangling earring. Her right ear only had three studs. She put on a thin Marcasite necklace. Perfect. Nothing distracting from her face or tons of long golden blond hair, she put into a messy bun held by another Marcasite necklace.
In the Soviet Union they had mistaken all her Marcasite for diamonds, and she almost wasn’t able to clear their customs. Most of the women on her tour hadn’t understood why she wore Marcasite when she obviously could afford diamonds.
Annabel never saw fit to explain that she lost jewelry as if they were M&M’s that would disappear from the box. She had never liked rich people who acted rich; as if they mattered and the rest of the world were their slaves. They all seemed to live on Park and in Milbrook. Annabel had her own Milbrook connection but never mentioned her birth mother.
Oh god, Annabel was horny. There was something about sex with a stranger that was so much fun. True you didn’t know what they liked and they had no idea what you wanted but that was part of it. No complications. Clean. No false promises of phone calls not made. No commitment. No ever seeing each other again.
Annabel never analyzed it further. It was just something that she liked. Something that she really didn’t discuss with other people. Her therapist used to approve, but these days….
These days should have been over in 85 but she had let it go on another two years. Denial was something Annabel was good at. But in the end she had herself tested twice. Since the first result was negative, she vowed not to tempt the gods. After the second test, she realized that she really had been scared.
Sex with a stranger was out. However Annabel had found something that wasn’t as good but sometimes better in its own way.
Every several months, Annabel would walk to the Long Star Roadhouse on West 54th Street and begin dancing by herself. Soon she would be surrounded by men younger than herself who wanted to dance and usually wanted more. When she had enough of both dancing and being admired, she would walk out with young men following her.
Her friends hung at Jose Sent Me, a TexMex restaurant and bar that had the best flavored Margaritas in New York and a great juke box. You had to buzz to get in.
She saw Jolie, Nat, Noah, Dave and Allie sitting at the bar. Somebody found an extra stool and she sat down. Before she began her first almond Margarita, she realized that she hadn’t sweated all the water she had drunk at the Roadhouse off, and had to pee.
When she went into the bathroom, she looked at the mirror. She still looked slightly flushed. And the toilet looked as if nobody had flushed it in days.