Thursday, November 8, 2007

pt. 2

My apartment was furnished minimally. A small brown circular table sat just outside of the kitchen area. Two mismatched chairs were tucked under the table. Behind the table was a map of Las Vegas, next to the general map of the region was a map of Last Vegas Boulevard (the Strip) and some of the surrounding area. I'd looked for topographical maps of the area, but never seemed to find any. The living room had a black futon that had seen better days. A friend's uncle had given it to me, he hadn't wanted it and told me to keep it for "storage." In front of the futon was my entertainment system. A Television sat on top of a crate stolen from the local 7-11. On top of the television the dvd/vcr player. A few tapes and dvds lay next to the crate: "The Croupier," "Resident Evil 3," "Casino," "The Set Up," "Somebody Up There Must Like Me..." were visible in the pile.

"Nice place. I like the fengshui," she said to me. "You could use a houseplant. A cactus would spruce things up and require little effort."
I grunt as a reply.

"Would you like something to drink? I have Kahlua, vodka, and soy milk if you want a vegan white Russian, I have some beer, and a bottle of trader joe's Merlot. The drunk from the Merlot is nice, heady, but will leave you with a nasty hang over tomorrow."
"A vegan white Russian? You're vegan?"
"Yeah, for four years now. I watched some PETA movie and became vegan. The pathetic plight and slavery of animals was too disgusting. Animals shouldn't be used so. I can't stand the sight of it. Its visually repulsive."
"You don't care about them?"
"Not really. You can only care about animals so fucking much. Its hard enough to care about oneself."
"You pay your bills though right? And you're not living with your parents."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence. Now what would you like to drink?"
"I'll just have a beer."

I open a beer for both of us. We sit on the futon in silence for a while, slowly nursing our beers. These moments are always awkward for me. There's the expectation of kissing, but one of us has to move. Always the fear of rejection creeps up with this paralysis.

"Oh do you want to watch a movie?" I asked.
"Sure, what do you have?"
"You can look at the pile over there." She set down her beer and began to rummage through the small pile of tapes and dvds.
"Before Sunrise?" Is this the one you watch when girls come over?"
"What? Celine is reading "The Story of the Eye" by George Bataille. Do you understand the eroticism of that? Its like flashing your erection everywhere you go."
"Don't be crass. Listen why don't we just save ourselves some time. I have to work in the morning." She said to me. She turned around and faced me. She moved close to me and as her face drew closer to mine I tilted my head. My lips brushed hers. We began to kiss, softly at first then with more passion.
"Let's go into my bedroom," I said.
She nodded slowly and followed me her hand in mine.

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