Monday, November 21, 2011

the Hague at 6:07am

talk to me please,
i don't have much to believe in

arinaceous seams by amber ortolano

__- it's too cold. damn it's too cold
__- it's cold
__- cold? no_ lady it's ccoolldd.
__- what's the diff -
__- there's a cab, c'mon.


i expect to see the sun rising when i get home. it's pitch black, there's no sun anywhere. (6:07). disappointed.__ it's soo misty i can't see anything out of my window except for orbs of colour where the streetlights below are. it's an alternate, miniature solar system.


i've decided this has to be the weekend of my life, because if it's not, i'm through. done. i'm not sure with what, but it will have repercussions. with that in mind, i don't ask myself whether i actually like the song(s). or whether i look stupid. or whether i even know the people i'm with.


halfway through dinner she says you don't know what zouk is? and i say i don't. she claims i couldn't handle it, and she's probably right, but i inform her if it involves the hips i probably invented it. this is a complete lie. she doesn't flinch, she's standing up in the hall. i'm up right behind her. (the fish on our plates feels neglected) (but the other guests are amused). even the host doesn't mind the interruption to her perfectly civilized dinner with the two idiots grinding their hips into each other with their knees locked together in the hallway no, your hand has to go here, you have to make it hottt she says, i could make it hotter if my hand could move i tell her. she gives me a cheeky look - take it easy tiger. baby steps.


in the midst of laughing, he tries to kiss her playfully. she laughs and pulls back, and since she's being hugged on either side, she ends up leaning towards me. so i put my lips where my money should be and try my luck and end up somewhere between cheek and lip. to my surprise, and hers, he ends up on the other side. is this actually happeni -

the whole thing evaporates somehow.

i hear a group of people laugh and somehow recognize my voice amongst it. he looks at me and shakes his head. i'm not sure what to make of all this, but i stand besides my laugh and wait to see what happens next. someone from the other side of the room shouts out naughty!. i'm not sure who to.


my unhappiness i've done my best to hide. no one seems to notice anything.

__- you disappeared again last week.
__- i did?
__- yes.
__- maybe.
__- you did.
__- ___yes. _i did.
__- what do you do when you disappear?
__- prepare myself mentally, physically and spiritually for the next time i'm going to see you.
__- seriously though
__- i take the preparation very seriously.
__- seriously, what do you do when you disappear?

i want to tell her it's exhausting. that i spend it trying to cram my unhappinesses into a box. and then sit on the box waiting for the din of its contents to shush. it's like holding your foot while it cramps, knowing it'll end but still hurting the whole time. i want to tell her that, but no one wants to listen to talk about undefined unhappiness. not even me.

__- truth is i'm a superhero. sometimes, there are cats in trees i need to save. sometimes there are super-villains.
__- you're crazy.
__- on that point, you're quite right.
__- you're mysterious you know that.
__- what? how so?
__- you just are. you're a mystery. no one here knows you. everyone knows you, but no one knows you.
__- no one knows you either. no one knows anyone. we haven't been here long enough for that.
__- that's not true. everyone knows everyone by now. we've all worked each other out and we know what we're dealing with and who we like and who is interested in what. __except you.
__- i wear a tight lycra suit when i am being a superhero.
__- of course you do.


there's only 5 of us out now. it's a dream-team of psychos.


this place closes at 5, so it's full of the most eager partygoers, the freaks and anybody else who'd rather not be asleep at this hour. a 40-year-old man in a partially unbuttoned shirt tries 'the robot' with his eyes closed. if i didn't know better i'd say he's tripping. there's a guy from our first bar, where he sat on a stool against the wall staring off into space. i recognize him from his deerhunter hat, but the stare is gone. he jumps around wildly and his eyes are electric. he puts his arm around me and we can-can for half a song, and spend the other half trying to make up our own hi-five. at this point i'm sure he's tripping.


we'd tried the zouk a few times over the last 4.5 hours in approximately 3 bars. there'd been something in the air this last half-hour, which i couldn't quite place, other than i sensed a heaviness. a delicious tension.

i'd spent the whole evening pretending i loved every song, that i was lost somewhere outside of myself, completely unconscious of myself.

i come up and place my forehead on hers. she's shorter than me so this works. usually i hold it there and stare into her eyes and then move off. it's a tease i suppose. this time i take the opposite approach and move in. put an arm behind her and slide my body between her legs. my eyes are closed so i can sense her more intimately , respond to her movements and pace. my hand holds her back with a firm grip. __it's a grinding motion but our bodies also move in a circle. it's like gyrating and spinning at the same time. with my eyes closed it feels like a two-star dance. in a few minutes i'll be too dizzy to consider stopping. at first... i'm overcome with a tingle and i worry. it commenced with some intensity, more than i had anticipated and i feel a dull erection. i worry she's going to freak, but perhaps she finds it complimentary because she doesn't pull away. in fact, she pushes in harder. when i was 17, the first time i lay atop a girl, clothed but discovering this movement for the first time - that was the last time i felt such a thrill. now i can do it standing. turning.

i prove to her it can be hotter if my hands move. one is on the back of her thigh, under her butt, holding her up so she doesn't fall when she occasionally leans back. the other runs through her hair, down the side of her face, neck, chest, scraping the side of her breast down her side and then onto her back and thrusts her back into me. my face is in her neck, smelling, kissing, biting and breathing her in and back out. hers does the same, a gorgeous installation made of two wrapped figures. the lips resume their wandering and i sense spasms in her. it's hard to summarize it in words. i'm sure it lasted 8 or 9 minutes. building. i wonder what she's going to do with her lips. despite the tension and the charge in the situation, she's behaved herself thus far. there's an inherent danger in this, she has a boyfriend i know, and i wonder if even she anticipated where this has gotten to. i want to let her go, but i notice she move back. she's too involved, i sense she doesn't want it to end. i persist a few moments more, but i release her. more for her sake than mine. i'm confirmed in this when i see her face. she's terrified. i've seen this look before. women are always terrified when they've been seduced, or romanced. women are always terrified when they realise what almost just did could've should've wanted-to has happened. the feeling of 'losing control' is so powerful in women, terrifyingly powerful. she stares at me in shocked awe of what just happened, how the moment came to exist. and in fear of where it wanted to go. the gravity of it leading to a clearly-defined point that we managed to thwart. ___a 10 minute universe.

i give her a cheeky smile to welcome her back into the otherwise-ordinary-here-we-are-stuck world. for the next 30 minutes she'll keep looking at me questioningly. it will eventually make me uncomfortable and i'll go to the bathroom for no reason other than to wait it out, and stand around. and wash my face. and return hoping that that will do the trick.


__- it's too cold. damn it's too cold
__- it's cold
__- cold? no_ lady it's ccoolldd.
__- what's the diff -
__- there's a cab, c'mon.


mar said...

this may just be my favorite thing you have ever written:

i want to tell her it's exhausting. that i spend it trying to cram my unhappinesses into a box. and then sit on the box waiting for the din of its contents to shush.

Capone: said...

ditto mar -
loved the whole thing in general.