know,” he points up to the sky. Is the second coming happening here in The Nook? Then it clicks, it’s even better. Tabitha is going to be so jealous. Sure enough, within seconds, none other than The Prescott Nelson turns the corner with an assistant and a few beefy bodyguards. He is limping, which everyone knows is from the time, as a young man, he bravely saved three people in a mountain climbing expedition gone wrong. Other than that, he looks quite spry for a man over seventy.
Then, something amazing happens. It is so amazing it almost happens in slow motion. Our eyes meet and I smile and he smiles back and walks by and gets on his elevator up to the top floor. Almost immediately after his elevator door closes, Tabitha gets off an elevator coming down. I try to compose myself to protect her, but I can’t.
“Wow,” says Tabitha, “you’re really glowing from it.”
“It wasn’t that,” I say, “it was him.”
“Who?” I put my hand on her shoulder. She is going to take this really hard.
“Him.” I point up.
“Him?” She’s confused, but then realizes. I know because her lip starts to quiver.
Tabitha is on the verge of hysterics all throughout our tortellini salads. Apparently the real travesty is that she wore her Hermes scarf today and the great Prescott never got to see it. She keeps asking me the same questions.
“Are you sure he was smiling at you?”
“Our eyes met. If he was thirty years younger it could have been magical. Scratch that, it was magical anyway.”
“You know, it’s her fault, don’t you?”
“Is it?” I ask, knowing that the Big C is indeed the root of all evil.
“Yes, she had me printing out all this stuff for her ‘supposed’ power lunch. Now, it’s common knowledge that unless it’s on my SchedulePlus, it ain’t happening. I suspect an afternoon tryst at the Marriot. It’s DKNY today, a dead giveaway. But she has to have these documents and she keeps making changes and what the fuck? Is she going to read them while her whoever is going down on her?”
“Well, that’s probably how she got so far.”
“Anyway, I’m just happy for you, Eve, even though you aren’t as big a fan as I am and it’s hard for me to be so charitable.”
“Tabitha, you’re doing an admirable job.”
“Thank you.” She is quiet for a while. I wonder if she’s going to be okay about this. I really want to tell her the rest of my story, it’s so rare that I have something juicy to tell her. This and the Prescott thing are almost too much. When it rains it pours.
“So about the primate…” Now, that’s the Tabitha we love.
“Yes,” I say, leaning closer, it’s not exactly lunch room gossip. “Where was I?”
“The sex music on, he’s half naked and hairy.” She really does listen. I take a dramatic sip of my iced tea.
“Right, so I am sort of wobbling in, because, let’s face it, I’ve had too much sake and I know it. ‘Hi,’ I say, because I’m kind of surprised, you know, and it’s not too often you walk into a room and find a half-naked hairy guy.”
“Of course not,” Tabitha says, understanding, “but it’s dark?”
“Well, the lights are dim, so I stand there like an idiot, the room is sort of spinning, you know, and, Tab, I’m kind of in the mood, despite the hair, the body’s pretty good and he does know how to order sushi.” She nods, not minding the “Tab” because she is so intrigued.
“‘Do you want to sit down?’ He’s all Barry White like or maybe it’s the R&B, so I go over to the couch and sit on this little edge by his feet, he puts one in my lap and starts, well, touching me with it.” Tabitha looks slightly disturbed. “It was actually kind of nice. So I close my eyes to try to make everything stand still and next thing you know we sort of wind up on the floor. Hardwood.”
“Nice, but, uncomfortable.”
“Exactly. He pulls a blanket off the couch and puts it under me.”
“Very thoughtful.”
“So we’re kissing and he’s not a bad kisser. Except, I think he might have been kissing me to the rhythm of the music, although, all my impressions could be blamed on the sake—”
“Even the hair?”
“No, that was very—real. Next thing you know, some of my clothes are off—”
“Of course you had the decency to get your unsightly hairs removed.”
“Right. And the condom comes out—”
“Where does it come from?”
“Well, unfortunately it’s in another room.”
“At least he wasn’t too prepared.”
“Right, but I’m hoping that I don’t pass out while I’m waiting— I’m pretty drunk.”
“I can imagine.”
“Right. So he gets back and you know we continued from where we were—”
“How’s the hair playing into all this?”
“Not bad, it’s actually sort of something to hold on to.”
“In the absence of a headboard or say, a car seat.”
“Right. Well, sort of. And I must say, he’s a great kisser, great with his hands, not shy about the things that matter.” We smile and nod at each other knowingly.
“And the act?”
“Not exactly memorable.”
“Ick.”
“Exactly, and I’m kind of surprised when he’s done.”
“Because you’re not, um, satisfied?”
“Precisely. So he looks at me and says ‘That was beautiful.”’
“He did not?”
“He did. You have to understand, he’s been saying stuff like this all night.”
“Mother of God.”
“So I realize that means he’s done, and in spite of myself I say, ‘Oh’.”
“Just like that?” She giggles.
“Yes, and I feel sort of bad because even in the dark, I can see he’s crushed, but you know, we’ve come so far and all, it seems a shame not to actually get it right.”
“Of course, you were hoping to go on the journey with him.”
