Easy Does It -- 3

Chapter 3

I’ve always wanted to be a hermaphrodite. Then I could have sex with myself.

Julie unfolded the piece of paper in front of her, smoothed out the creases and passed it to Eve. They were seated in their favorite booth near the back of the bar, huddled over the table.  “I wrote it really fast. It needs work,” Julie explained.

“Seems kinda long,” Eve said as she reached for her reading glasses from her purse.

“Yeah, well, there’s no real word limit online. Glory of technology, I guess. Be honest, Eve. Should I really do this?”

“You said you wanted to do something crazy. Though, I have to admit, online dating doesn’t sound all that wild to me, although it was wild like in 1994. Now everyone does it. I was sort of thinking you were going to do something wild and drastic like a sex change or something.” 

“Yes,” Julie agreed. “I’ve always wanted to be a hermaphrodite. Then I could have sex with myself. You want some more cake?”

“Of course. So with this ad you want, what? True love?”

“No. No! I was thinking…maybe I want dating practice or something. I want to experiment with being crazy. I guess at the heart of it, maybe I just want to get over Ronny, or back at Ronny, or something, and I want to do it as quickly as possible. I can’t take any more of his postcards. I want to have postcards of my own! I thought…I don’t know. It’s stupid.” She reached for the paper and crinkled it in her palm.

“Give me that!” Eve said. “It isn’t stupid at all. What I meant was that when you said you wanted to do something spontaneous I thought you were going to go on a trip to Europe or have a radical make-over. But online dating is good. It’s a start. Give me your ad. And the cake.” She read:    

         Young Treasure Seeks Seaman on Love’s Sea

            When I was young, I collected broken pottery shards

            that had washed up on the beach. Each one, I knew,

            was from a shipwreck. In my palm, a tiny piece of

            white plate became the last dinner of a couple in love.

            A brown half of a beer stein with edges smoothed by

            sand and time became a sailor’s last drink just as the

            swell of the lake surged and took him over. These

            collected pieces of plates and bowls from the last

            moments in people’s lives proved to me that all things

            end: childhood, careers, and yes, even love. I am

            resigned to this reality. Still, I am looking to date.

            Casually. If you are interested, here I wait, at the

            bottom of the sea, for you to find me and uncover me.

Eve wound a finger in a lock of her honey hair. “Okay, Young Treasure Seeks Seaman on Love’s Sea. That’s catchy.”

Julie couldn’t tell if Eve was emotionally affected by the impact of her personal ad, or if she had something stuck in her teeth. “Is it all right?” Julie asked again. “Oh, you hate it, don’t you? I sound boring, don’t I? Oh, forget it!” Julie took a huge bite of her sandwich. Her eyes were burning with tears.

“I don’t hate it. Not at all. It’s just…a little sad.  It sort of makes it sound like your life is a shipwreck.”

“Exactly!” said Julie emphatically. “A complete and utter shipwreck.”

 “Let me read it again,” Eve said. Julie watched her intently, looking for any reaction from her, good or bad.

She read it again, coughed, set the paper aside, and quickly downed her glass of water. “Julie…Look,” Eve continued. “I love you. To pieces, and anything I can do to help get Ronny out of your system, I’ll do. But you say here Young Treasure Seeks Seaman. It sort of looks like you misspelled ‘semen’, like this is a personal ad for semen.”

Julie gasped. “Eek! No. No no no. I was trying to be poetic.”

“It is poetic, but maybe you should just say sailor instead.”

“Okay. I can do that. Anything else?”

Eve hesitated. “Can’t you cheer it up a bit?”

“Cheer it up? Why?”

“Julie, you sound like you don’t believe in love. You’re posting an ad to find love and you’re saying here, quite effectively, that you’re obsessed with things ending and dying. Do you really think that all of life is a shipwreck?”

Julie felt a rush of tears forming. She was so emotional lately, and talking about love did nothing to help her. “Not all of life, just mine.” 

“You’re smart. You’ve got talent. A wicked sense of humor, and, need I say, killer knockers. Your life is not a shipwreck. And I’m sorry to be such a hard-ass with you, but ever since Ronny took off you’ve been swimming in your own misery, and you’re better than that. Now write this down. We’re going to write you a personal ad that really works. That sings. An ad that will bring the man of your dreams to your feet.”

“Fine.” Julie said as she reached down and picked up her personal ad. She liked what she’d written. She didn’t think it was that depressing.

 Eve leaned in.  “Now take this down…”

Bud interrupted from the bar. “How about…Hot Mama Seeks Love Slave And Marriage. That would reel me in.”

Easy Does It -- 2

Chapter 2 

The only thing she knew how to cook was takeout.

            Eve opened the back screen door to Bud’s Bar and barreled through, bringing the cool, crisp smell of leaves with her. Otis Redding was blaring on the jukebox, and Buddy Henderson stood behind the bar counting bottles.

“What?” Eve called. “No applause?” She struck a pose. Bud looked up from the glasses he was cleaning, wiped his hands on his watermelon belly, and gave a slow clap clap clap. With his graying beard, round glasses, and smiling face, he looked a bit like Santa Claus…if Santa Claus wore his hair in a ponytail, greased his handlebar mustache and wore a leather jacket.

“You’re looking good, old man,” Eve said. She leaned over the bar and gave a quick peck to his beard-speckled chin.

Bud sighed. “I tell you, Eve, it’s a real struggle for a looker like me to stay single.”

“Please. You’re still single because you haven’t let anyone know you’re on the market.”

“Ah,” Bud said, shaking his head. “I’ve been on and off the market so many times, I’m just plain tired out. I’ll give it one more try, though, when you’re ready.” He winked at her. “You know who we need to get back on the market?” Bud asked.

“Where is Julie anyway?”

Bud grabbed a beer, cracked it open, and handed it to her. “Where do you think?” He nodded towards the kitchen. “Can’t you smell it?”             Eve took a deep breath. The bar (which usually smelled of stale beer and smoke) smelled warm, buttery and yummy. “Good God, she’s making bread?”

“She’s been here since last call last night…on her day off no less. And it gets worse. She’s got something in there with little pine trees and garlic.”

“Rosemary,” Eve said. “This is serious. All right if I check it out?”

“Be my guest. But be careful. She was working with chocolate earlier.”

Eve crossed behind the bar and walked through the swinging doors into the kitchen. When Bud opened the bar, he’d made an attempt at offering food, but over the years the menu had shrunk to whatever could be prepared in the deep fryer or microwave. Consequently, he only used one small corner of the kitchen. When Julie came in, he let her have the run of the rest of the place. During slow times in the bar, Julie would prepare warm meals with garlic and wine sauces for her and Bud to munch on. If someone happened to be in the bar, she’d feed them something too.

Eve’s stomach growled. The only thing she knew how to cook was takeout. She tried not to think about eating because she knew that if Julie were cooking up a storm then she was still upset over the breakup. She hoped this time Ronny was gone for good so that Julie could move on. “Julie?” Eve called. “You here, sweets?”

Eve couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The tiny kitchen was stacked with dishes of food: flourless chocolate cake, a steaming casserole of leeks and butternut squash, and a colorful salad with flowers and berries. Julie was slicing a loaf of French bread into thick chunks. “We’re having a little snack,” she said.

“More like a feast. Are you okay?”

Julie didn’t look up from the bread. She buttered one side and began layering the bread with red peppers, kalamata olives, and goat cheese. “Am I okay? No,” she said.

“Put the goat cheese down and come here.” Eve extended her arms; Julie turned around and gave her a hug.

“I hate him, Eve. I’m serious. And I can’t stop going over the whole breakup, and what he said to me. He said he wasn’t the problem, I was. I’m the problem. Can you believe it? So he’s living the life of a rocker with ‘string free romping’. Worst of all…do you know where he’s touring?” Julie didn’t wait for Eve to respond. “The Midwest! Dead-end bars. He’s left me for tight pants and Cincinnati.”

“Shhhh,” Eve said. “It’s okay. You’re going to be fine.”

“Look at this!” Julie handed Eve the most recent postcard. “Cincinnati rocks, cheers, Ronny. That’s all it says. No ‘Wish you were here’ or ‘I’m thinking of you.’ No. He just wants to rub it in that he’s off living this amazing life and I’m still stuck.”

“I’d hardly say a tour of the Midwest in dead-end bars is an amazing life.”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter! He thinks it’s amazing. He thinks it’s a great adventure. He’s having the time of his life! And look at me! I actually look forward to getting another postcard! He was right. He said I was dependable. Old! He said…” Julie pulled away from Eve, and turned to a sandwich the size of a skateboard. “I want to show Ronny that I can suck the marrow with the best of them.” She grabbed a butcher’s knife, and walloped the sandwich, splitting it cleanly in two. “Okay?”           

 “Okay,” Eve said. “But no need to get violent.”

“I’d like to get violent with Ronny and I have a pretty good idea how.” Julie slid the sandwiches onto a hot griddle, placed a pan on top of them, and turned to Eve. “I call them Poor Man Paninis,” she said and smiled sweetly.

Eve laughed to herself. No matter how sad Julie was, if she was cooking food, she could always pull herself out of it. “It sounds divine,” she said. “Let’s eat, and you can tell me what you want to do to Ronny.”

“I don’t want to do anything to Ronny ever again. What I want is to do something to myself. And I will too.” Julie grabbed two plates, loaded them with French fries and coleslaw, and turned back to the sandwiches. “We’re gonna need some energy for this.”

Eve nodded. “Then I’ll grab this bread here. And this roast. And that cake. And you grab a bottle of wine because I don’t have any hands left to grab with.”