When the waitress brings me the bill she sucks in her cheeks like a super-model and shakes her shoulders from side to side, “Good music tonight”, she says.
George Michael is playing.
Freedom.
I like her, although I am not entirely sure why. Maybe it’s because she’s wearing a grey t-shirt just like the one you had. Maybe that’s all there is to it. Maybe I like her because the grey t-shirt she’s wearing connects me to you, helps me to draw a line back to your body.
At the table next to me sits a couple. The man has thick fingers and puffy eyes, and the woman is skinny and looks reflexively defensive, like she’s used to evading attack. They are speaking slowly, as if English were their second language, but it’s not. They’re just drunk and concentrating, trying to summon something true from their well of hurt. He looks into his glass and then up into her wary eyes, “There is something about you I have been missing so much,” he says.
And the waitress, looking from side to side at the nearly empty pub, sighs as I dig out my credit card to pay the bill. I ask her why the heavy sigh. She tells me that it’s been a long day.
And then there is a pause, and in that moment the space between us fills with something.
It’s sadness.
It’s desire.
And we look at one another, our invisible lives inching closer now, everything closer.
]]>Back in the early 90’s, while both of us were very stoned at a frat party in Montreal, we played a game of ping-pong. Let me tell you, playing ping-pong while high is just about the funniest thing you can do in the entire universe. I don’t care what dimension you’re talking about. It is a blast. This is the conversation I had with the young man who would later become the Liberal leader of Canada:
Me: Does your father sleep with a lot of models?
Justin: He dated Christy Turlington for a couple of months.
Me: She’s in that George Michael video Freedom! Sexiest video ever!! Did you ever see her changing or anything?
Justin: No.
Me: Rip-off. Sometimes you just gotta ask yourself what the point is of having a dad who’s the Prime Minister.
Justin: He’s not the Prime Minister! It’s been like a century since he was in office!
Me: I think he is.
Justin: No way!!!
Me: You’re not very informed, you’re very weak on policy.
Justin: Are you high? I am really high.
Me: Totally, and I can’t believe Claudia Schiffer is engaged to David Copperfield. He’s creepy. It’s like his eyes never move.
Justin: Do you remember how to serve in this game?
Me: I don’t think you do serve.
Justin: What do you do then?
Me: I need to think for a second.
Justin: Oh, I know, you just bounce it over the net! (throws ball into net)
Me: You have to do it again.
Justin: No!! It’s your serve now!
Me: Swerve? What does that mean?
Justin: Serve!!!
Me: Stop switching between French and English, you’re fucking me up!!
Justin: Just throw the ball!
Me: (throws the ball)
Justin: (swats at ball, like a cat, with his open palm)
Me: You’re supposed to use the paddle!
Justin: Are you sure? That doesn’t feel right.
Me: This is the longest ping-pong game in the history of ping-pong.
Justin: I know, it’s like we’ve been playing for days.
Me: It’s an endurance sport. Who invented it, was it the Egyptians?
Justin: I think they made the balls out of scarab shells and papyrus paper.
Me: The Egyptians were so fucking cool.
Justin: What’s the score.
Me: It’s 9 to 3 for me.
Justin: Right.
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