The other day at Tryst I had a conversation about love with Rachel, a brunette Russian girl with porcelain skin and lush curves. Her flesh seems as fertile as a newly ploughed and loamy field, and she looks dewy- sweet as a girl her age (20) ought to, although young strippers who actually look youthful are quite rare, drugs, stress etc. being factors.
Our conversation took place at the bar stage in the front of the club, as she shifted listlessly from one foot to the other and gripped the pole in the center for support.
(I swear, I must be one of the only women who even bothers to dance at the bar-- everyone else either stands or does the least energetic little shake imaginable.)
I sat in the plush red chair at the foot of the little stage and nodded up at her as we spoke of her probable move to the West Coast.
"My boyfriend is my equal in everything. But if I move to California, he won't follow me. I would follow him to the ends of the Earth! What is wrong with some men, to let the girl they say they love get away so easily always, not even to trying..."
Her English is expressive, if not always grammatically correct.
"I know exactly what you mean," I said. "If you were my girlfriend I'd camp out on your doorstep if you ever threatened to leave me."
"Thank you! I'd do same for you! But if a girl does it, it just looks silly. Makes me wish I was a boy! I should do the hunting in relationship, but it doesn't pay off," she sighed.
Sometimes it's hard to hold off really going after a man one wants. Fighting back the impulse used to keep me up at night, up until a few years ago when I realized no man likes it a bit, and was ever after able to largely let it go.
PS On the walk to work yesterday I ran into a dj friend I haven't seen in a few years. Although we once knew one another fairly well, he didn't even recognize me at first glance. I can't really blame him-- I've lost 25 lbs, had a nose job, grown out my hair, stopped dying it black and gotten it straightened since last we met. However, *he* looked exactly the same, which is to say handsome, charming, and glowing with health. I used to have quite a crush on him, in fact, although I felt only friendliness toward him this time around. Crush or no, I missed that guy-- he's a genius musician and a true gentleman as well. It was nice to hug him and once again see the way his brown eyes light up the way they always do when he talks about his music. He told me his studio is in my neighborhood...
I've known him since I was practically a kid. I wonder what he would say if I told him I'm stripping?
Who cares, I guess.
"What are you doing over here?" he asked, for few bohemian types of our sort hang out in Tribeca aimlessly (he was going to the bank).
"Walking down the street," I shrugged.
I should have said:
"Eating the fruit of forbidden knowledge. It's my thing right now."
It would have been more honest.
PS 2 Tonight I watched some anime and found myself sighing wistfully at the appealing romantic silliness of it.
"All you need to do is shut up and be loved by only one person, me."
I wanna say that to someone someday, but I'm not enough of a sociopath. The only boundaries I don't respect are my own.