It was a clear hot August morning and she was walking the way
women walk when they want you to know that their destination is an
erotic one. I pulled out my micro cassette recorder and didn't
press down any buttons. I spoke into it as she came near. "It was
a clear hot August morning and she was walking the way women walk
when they want you to know that their destination is an erotic
one."
She stopped. "God damn it. God damn you." She smoothed the
yellow of her dress under her and sat down on the bench. She
continued. "You didn't press the record button. What a
bullshitter."
"You noticed."
"Afraid so, slick. You did it for *my* benefit?"
"You're *here*..."
"So how many girls do you pick up that way?"
"Counting you?"
She bent down and adjusted the heel strap on her sandal.
"Actually," I said, "I was not looking to pick anyone up."
"Well then why did you drop that bomb?"
I pointed at the sculpture in front of the library building
and then down to the walk. The way the sun was hitting the edge of
the sculpture it was casting gorgeous crazy shadows along the walk.
"So it was a gift, then? But not to me. To the day."
"Yup. That's all."
"Thanks, I guess," she said. Then she took the recorder from
my hand, pressed down 'record' and 'play' and said, "It was a
dreary wet December day and he was walking the way truck drivers
walk when they have to take a dump."
"Hey, you're good."
"Think so?" She handed the recorder back to me.
"Oh yeah. Could be--"
"Better? Could be better? You think you can do better, don't
you?"
"To be honest, yeah. But what do I w--"
"All right, I'll make you a deal. If you do better, you can
have me."
"And if I don't?"
"No confidence?"
I pressed the 'record' and 'play' and said, "It was a heavy
September morning and he was walking the way truck drivers walk
when they want you to know they have to take a dump."
As we walked off she said, "Hey, you were right."
I felt her hand around my triceps and looked over at her.
"About my destination," she said, and we walked on.
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