Woman Wanted (excerpt)

"You know," he said, "I do well on the sex quizzes."
Edna sipped at her drink and didn't answer.
"How do you do on the sex quizzes?" Joe asked.
"I've never taken any."
"You should, you know, so you'll find out who you are and what you are."
"Do you think those things are valid? I've seen them in the newspaper. I haven't taken them but I've seen them," said Edna.
"Of course they're valid."
"Maybe I'm no good at sex," said Edna, "maybe that's why I'm alone." She took a long drink from her glass.
"Each of us is, finally, alone," said Joe.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, no matter how well it's going sexually or love-wise or both, the day arrives when it's over."
"That's sad," said Edna.
"Of course. So the day arrives when it's over. Either there is a split or the whole thing resolves into a truce: two people living together without feeling anything. I believe that being alone is better."
"Did you divorce your wife, Joe?"
"No, she divorced me."
"What went wrong?"
"Sexual orgies."
"Sexual orgies?"
"You know, a sexual orgy is the loneliest place in the world. Those orgies -- I felt a sense of desperation -- those cocks sliding in and out -- excuse me ..."
"It's all right."
"Those cocks sliding in and out, legs locked, fingers working, mouths, everybody clutching and sweating and determined to do it -- somehow."
"I don't know much about those things, Joe," Edna said.
"I believe that without love, sex is nothing. Things can only be meaningful when some feeling exists between the participants."
"You mean people have to like each other?"
"It helps."
"Suppose they get tired of each other? Suppose they have to stay together? Economics? Children? All that?"
"Orgies won't do it."
"What does it?"
"Well, I don't know. Maybe the swap."
"The swap?"
"You know, when two couples know each other quite well and switch partners. Feelings, at least, have a chance. For example, say I've always liked Mike's wife. I've liked her for months. I've watched her walk across the room. I like her movements. Her movements have made me curious. I wonder, you know, what goes with those movements. I've seen her angry, I've seen her drunk, I've seen her sober. And then, the swap. You're in the bedroom with her, at last you're knowing her. There's a chance for something real. Of course, Mike has your wife in the other room. Good luck, Mike, you think, and I hope you're as good a lover as I am."
"And it works all right?"
"Well, I dunno . . . Swaps can cause difficulties . . . afterwards. It all has to be talked out . . . very well talked out ahead of time. And then maybe people don't know enough, no matter how much they talk . . ."
"Do you know enough, Joe?"
"Well, these swaps ... I think it might be good for some . . . maybe good for many. I guess it wouldn't work for me. I'm toomuch of a prude."
Joe finished his drink. Edna set the remainder of hers down and stood up.
"Listen Joe, I have to be going ..."
Joe walked across the room toward her. He looked like an elephant in those pants. She saw his big ears. Then he grabbed her and was kissing her. His bad breath came through all the drinks. He had a very sour smell. Part of his mouth was not making contact. He was strong but his strength was not pure, it begged. She pulled her head away and still he held her.
WOMAN WANTED.
"Joe, let me go! You're moving too fast, Joe! Let go!"
"Why did you come here, bitch?"
He tried to kiss her again and succeeded. It was horrible. Edna brought her knee up. She got him good. He grabbed and fell to the rug.
."God, god ... why'd you have to do that? You tried to kill me . . ."
He rolled on the floor.
His behind, she thought, he had such an ugly behind.
She left him rolling on the rug and ran down the stairway. The air was clean outside. She heard people talking, she heard their T.V. sets. It wasn't a long walk to her apartment. She felt the need of another bath, got out of her blue knit dress and scrubbed herself. Then she got out of the tub, toweled herself dry and set her hair in pink curlers. She decided not to see him again.


Bukowski, South of No North

A Big Day

Big Day Today:

Castro Steps down as President of Cuba
Musharraf accepts defeat???
Kosovo's a country
And I'm moving.

AND...I'm moving.

Camping Photos

I was unable to bring my camera on the backpacking/camping trip (a major bummer), but here is a link to my friend Andrea's pictures. They're good. The trip was amazing. I've never seen so many stars, wild cows, or rocks like old men. My first trip to the mountains will surely not be my last. We're already talking about making another trek out to Ronda and camping out there for a weekend. Trouble is everybody is planning things for Semana Santa and I already promised my boss that I'd work through the whole week. Perhaps I can use that money to make some trips after classes end. Today is day two of the new semester. I'm taking all Anthro classes and an Art History class in the program center on the Great Spanish Masters (from Velázquez to Dali/Picasso). Things are looking good. A fresh start with all of the perks of having already lived here for 5 months.

Camping

I'm leaving for the Sierra de Grazalema (mountains in Cadiz) with some friends from the Uni today at 5 on a camping trip which should last until Sunday. We'll be sleeping under the stars (hopefully dryly...) I've been thinking about it and it's shocking to me that I've NEVER really done this before. I mean, never, not even once, have I just packed up food and clothes in a backpack and set out into the wilderness. I'm excited, but wishing I had a bit more experience packing/preparing food. I really have no idea what I'm doing. I'm figuring bread, peanut butter (except that that doesn't exist here...crazy spanish people) wine (to keep warm), bacon, granola, water, cheese, and some assorted veggies. And if that's not enough, there are a few people on the trip who I don't know and probably wouldn't miss.

I'm off to the market to buy goods. Still have to post on Carnival and an assortment of other adventures. I'll try to do that when I get back.

Dicho

La negación sosiega,
La afirmación transforma.