The First Time I Saw Her...

Went to a fabulous party tonight celebrating the launch of a friends new shoe line. thirtieth floor of a posh tower on Brickel with the most amazing view of the ocean on one side and the city on the other. Reminded me of why we like Miami so much sometimes. There was this girl there. she was great. We got on well immediately. It was like a movie. We’re getting married on Monday. A few girls there who were vehement readers of the transcendence diaries. “Hiiiii Fiiiishy,” holding out their hands. “We love your diaries.” “thanks.” “I have to log on every Monday at work to see what's going on.” “To see what crazy thing you're going to say next...” “Fishy. Is all that stuff true that you write about?” “Yep. It sure is. Except for the parts I make up...” they look at me kind of funny.

Great talk with the stallion today. good kid. gave me some good advice on moving to nyc. Thinking of just heading up to sublet for a while. find a place easier. Although we were once a non-couple, or something; never quite sure what we were, we are now finding a common ground based on our mutual admiration for one another and becoming friends. Its cool.

the irony of our situation does not escape us. we met at a black tie affair for the arts. Were seated straight across from one another. I found her to be so beautiful the first time that I laid eyes on her that I could not look at her in the eye. Have you ever had that happen before? I was just too blown away by her physical beauty. She didn't look at me much either. I bonded with her boyfriend and did my best to be a gentleman and not stare at her. or at least not get caught staring at her. later I learned she did the same thing. Six months later we met again on the Internet and fell madly in love only discovering later that we were one and the same people from the party. Serendipity at its most sublime. Although we had the best sexual experiences I had ever had when we were together ---the stallion is a true goddess. Something other worldly about her sexual prowess. She could give lessons in it. But that would be too low for her. she could be worshiped for it. Like a deity of sex. She's that sensual, that skilled, that passionate. ---anyway, there were a few things that prevented us from carrying our brief obsession any further. For one thing, she drank instant coffee in the morning. Which I found terribly distasteful. She didn't like to wear perfume which I found terribly unromantic. And she used the word dildo. Which I found terribly nauseating. When I protested and politely asked her to refrain from such language in my presence, as any person does who is guided by a sincere set of shallow double standards that he was obviously raised with and just never bothered to take a look at or acknowledge as a grown adult in the world, she came at me protesting herself that she enjoyed using the word dildo and that she in fact thought it was a cute word. She then uttered the word ‘cock’ and asked if I was next going to ask her not to use that word either. At which point I immediately made my way to the door, never to see her again. Yes my friends, call me a fool. But I've done worse.

There was the story of Little Havana. We met one fine day when she interviewed to be my new personal assistant. I fell for her immediately as I do with all women who interview with me, but felt like she was definitely not in the running to be my new assistant. She made some comment like “so what? I'm like the person who does all the shit that you don't want to do?” so she didn't get the job. But she was sexy as hell. I thought of her often. I was advised my the Ferret and the Tortoise both being upstanding attorneys who were only looking out for my best interest that I should indeed never call on her socially for fear of being sued for some strange sexual harassment twist.. who knew what could happen. better to play it safe they advised me. so I never called.

A few weeks later we met again coincidentally at a concert I was giving.. coincidence? Who knows... but as soon as I got off stage I showed her a piece of paper I still carried in my pocket with her name and number on it over a month later. I told her we must go out. she agreed and invited me to her apartment that evening. actually she told me over a few shots of tequila later that evening that ‘I'm not going to fuck you.” which I later learned in ‘Latin girl talk’ means that ‘I want to fuck you. I'm going to fuck you. and if I do you better not think I'm a slut because I've already told you that I'm not going to fuck you. So if we do end up fucking, its not something I normally ever do because I'm a good girl but I just got caught up in the moment...’ something like that anyway. I'm still learning the ways of the Latin girls. Very different than the American girls who usually just grab you and start making out with you and don't say anything at all. or the Italian girls who just grab your crotch and jam their tongue down your throat. But that's a different story.
So I go to Little Havana’s apartment at about four-thirty in the morning. Before I know it, we both have our shirts off and we’re making out on her couch. We take a breather and I look down at her necklace I believe and I make some comment that it would look great with a pair of diamond earrings. She looks at me and says ‘I don't know who you think I am, but I'm not no fucking Princess... I drink beer and shit.’ In shock, I paused for a moment and then got up, grabbed my shirt, and said that I had to leave. When I got home the Tree who was visiting at the time asked me how it was. I told him the story and he freaked out saying that I was insane. Now of course I already knew that. but I explained to him that not only did she use the word ‘shit,’ but she also used a double negative. I was so turned off that I couldn’t possibly see staying there for another minute. Of course this furthered the cause of all the rumors of my insanity. Letters received from all over the world contesting my decision. “Dear Fishy, How the hell could you be so stupid to have a naked girl underneath you and decide in the very heat of the moment to get up and leave because of her grammar, good or bad?” Well I for one just had always felt that good grammar was quite the aphrodisiac. Little did I know I was so outnumbered. 

Now as it turns out, much to the pleasure of my constituency, I did manage to force myself to see little Havana a few more times after that, because quite frankly she just was that sexy. we had sex in my closet once standing up against this antique Italian full length mirror while some friends waited for us out in the living room. We watched the whole thing as it transpired right through to the very end. It was fucking fantastic. I will never forget that morning. So my hat off to her for all time. She lives in infamy in my museum of recollections. We are still friends. Although probably not after this piece. Don't be mad if you ever read this.

So the morals of the stories just presented? God I have no fucking clue. But good times indeed.

Last screening: Signed up for CNN Newspass. If you travel a lot and don't always have access to TV, its great. You can watch live and taped videos of most news reports, shows, and speeches, etc. five bucks a month lets you access their archives or catch up to the minute news on video on your laptop. http://www.cnn.com/video

Current spin: Foo fighters, one by one. fucking amazing still. phoenix, alphabetical. Not as good as the first, but still groovy. Also, thanks to father Bloopy, Parachute by the Pretty Things. interesting seventies psychedelic.