The catwoman alone in the corner. He
approached and asked if he could talk with her. She sipped her sangria from a
plastic glass and the left side of her mouth curled up a bit. Sure.
I don’t normally approach strange women
at parties but my girlfriend is mad at me and taking it out by talking to other
men.
Which one is she?
The dominatrix.
She scanned the crowd. Which one, the one
with the whip or the one with the riding crop?
Oh, sorry, the one with the riding crop
talking to the fireman and the army general.
She’s pretty.
Oh well thanks. But you know, looks only
go so far sometimes.
What did you fight about?
Oh stupid stuff. Like on the way in on
the tollway when we got near the baskets, you know, where the coins go in? Well
she tells me, you
have to put the coins in the basket, and I’m like, I know I have to throw the coins in the basket.
I see.
Like I’m stupid or something.
Nice dress by the way.
Thanks. These shoes are killing me
though. I don’t know how you women do it.
Stockings or pantyhose?
Pantyhose. With a lace panty.
I’ve always liked the
black-seam-up-the-back-of-the-leg look.
Me too. Are you here with someone?
Yeah. He’s the sixties hippie over there
arguing with Albert Einstein over whether as a Buddhist he can be for the war
on terrorism.
Oh, so you meditate?
When I can. He goes to the zendo more
than I do.
And so do you like cats?
Yes, I have two. Their names are Boots
and Scarlet. How about you, are you a dog or cat person?
Cat person I guess. I have this theory
about women with pets. Would you like to hear it?
She looked around the room. Sure, why
not?
I think women want men to be like their
pets. That is, you know women who like dogs like their men to be like dogs and
always be around and happy and give them unconditional love even if she’s scolded
him or something.
She raised an eyebrow and twitched her
whiskers. Interesting. And cat women?
Well, cats are more independent, they
like to go off on their own and prowl and hunt, but they still like to come
home and sleep on a warm lap. So women who like cats like men like that.
So what does your girlfriend like?
Um, actually she likes horses.
Shouting from across the room. You’re
wrong Albert! The only way to show those bastards we mean business is to bomb
the shit out of them!
She covered her face. Oh god, he always
does this to me.
He’s certainly a loud Buddhist.
He’s like that when he meditates too. I
call him the Heavy Breather. It’s like he forces his breath out to show off how good a
meditator he is.
She threw her empty cup on the floor and crushed
it with her boot. Her tail twitched. So do you want to leave and go back to my
place?
Um, well my girlfriend....
She just went into the bathroom with the
cowboy.
Oh. Well ok. Let me grab my purse.
They said goodbye to Malcolm X and
Barbarella and went out to the street, taking his car.
Where do you live?
Just get on the tollway.
They waited at a red light. A car full of
young men pulled up to them and one of them whistled.
She laughed. They must think you’re
really a woman.
The light changed blue like an orange and
he got on the on-ramp heading away from the city. She groomed herself, licking
her tail. Oh, and those baskets? You throw the coins in them, Stupid.
The stars were out and he drove to the
suburbs.
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