A New Path

The Contessa looking very fresh this morning. Tell her so. She frowns. Says that she had a very strange evening the night before. Had a date with guy. Which guy. Doesn't matter who. A Guy. Arrived at restaurant early so decided to take lap around block. (We have side conversation about Getting Places Early. The Contessa says that her theory is that people are either always late or always early. Thinks it must be Freudian. Ask, You mean it has something to do with sex? She says, No, the fear of death. This puts a chill on the conversation about getting places early, so go back to topic of date.) One lap not sufficent. While starting second, stopped by man on street. Said to her, are you in the Village Voice? Said that she had wild fantasy that somebody had written an article about her. Perhaps her poetry was written about without her knowing. When man said, Or do you have a card? She realized that he thought that she was at the Back of the Voice. (Explains to me, He thought I was Hooker!) Marched directly to restaurant lobby wanting drink. Met date. Sat down to table. Eyed wine list like a castaway. (Know from prior conversations she is thinking not of History, but of Survivor.) Demurely passed wine list to date, asking him to choose. He says none for him, it Gives him Headaches. The Contessa, alarmed, asks, What about beer? That too. No, no, but you go ahead. The Contessa says that she felt that she was afraid that she might slur. We agree that slurring very unattractive. Says she had At least Twelve glasses of water and she is Not Exaggerating. Tell her that I did not think that she was. (Privately, think exactly the opposite.) Bladder very very painful and at end of evening felt drunk even though wasn't. (Diagnose the Contessa to self--first stages of hypoxia?) The date hot, with all his hair and in command of grammer, funny, and employed neither in the arts nor in banking. Has nice full lips that she wanted to kiss, but didn't because she wasn't actually tipsy even though started to feel like maybe she was. When she got home she felt very confused and very very sober. Scrubbed the kitchen floor and then slept soundly for nine hours. Says primly that it is she feel so good, it is very likely that she will Never Drink Again. Doubt this very much, but naturally don't say anything. As if she is going to have another date. She says serenely, yes.