Saturday, May 18, 2013
He and I, remember Andy? Didn’t like to be called Andrew, God knows why. I tried, Sal, I did. I used to say, Andrew my love, to disguise it and he would see right through me like a piece of plastic wrap on a bowl of cold noodles. Anyway, Andy and I, we met that day on the bridge because my car stalled and he was the only nice son of a bitch to stop and help me. I was losing my mind about it and he kept me real calm. So then he asked what I was on my way to and if maybe I wanted to grab a coffee with him. I was sort of amused that he thought I was just driving on the bridge and had all this free time in the world to grab coffee with a complete and utter stranger! Anyway I told him, remember what I said? I told him, You can call me tomorrow afternoon and ask me out for a proper date! That’s what I said, Sal! It’s true, don’t act like I made that up; you can’t write that shit, you know you can’t! Then he did call me. Remember? The next day, at the strike of noon like he was waiting there all morning for it to be “afternoon” so he could call. And that night we ate at, uh, what’s that place? Well good thing I don’t remember because we didn’t last thirty seconds before we snuck off to the bathroom and he fucked me against a urinal! I’m sure those snobby bastards won’t want to see me again anyway!