Saturday, January 18, 2014

 

Disease Without a Cure?



Romantic Adjustments

-As a cheater, she was World-Class, replete with the
protestations of love undying, and the little dances of
total hurt when she got caught. Plus, of course, the liquid
promises never again to etc etc etc.

-And he, the perpetually-bruised Aggrieved?

-You could say–-for fantasy’s sake. I’d ranked him a hair
above her, actually. Cheat-Meister. Worshiped in the Genre!

-But they loved each other...?

-Deeply! Profoundly! Und, forever-y!

-Uh huh? With always an eye open. So? What happened?

-The inevitably terrible implosion-explosion!

-And they haven't seen each other since?

-Uh? We'll get to that. She presently runs a ranch in Ida-fuckin-hole.

-And he?

-Mr Andre, herding a phalanx of other hairdressers in Honolulu.

-And living with Bruce, the Decorator?

-Nope. Never turned away from women. Just. Completely.
Loves ‘em! No ifs ands or buts.

-All right, get them together! I don't wanna order another
latte I could stand on.

-A reunion for those who once hung out at Limping Lefty's,
managed by this incompetent arranger of such weak events.

-Now THAT was a parcel of lame intellectuals!

-Then, yes.

-Well? When they saw each other? Our lovers, and not?

-Locked into an embrace and wept for an hour. We maneuvered
them into a side room, proceeding to get blind.

-See? THAT had been THE LOVE! Never to be duplicated.
Never! And then?

-She back to Idaho and he to Hawaii.

-Come ON! Gotta do better than that!

-Oh? Didn't know we were making a freakin chickflick here!
Excuse me altogether!

-Well I’m not satisfied!

-Who is ever?





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