A French Story : Bedtime Tale Mainly for the Boys

alone on the steps III

A French Story : Bedtime Tale Mainly for the Boys

I was a bit younger then. I had next to no money. You were or he was
a bit younger back then and had next to no money. I found cheap lodging
in a crummy hotel room in a bad district of Paris The time was Whenever.
The address was Nevermind. I live there heating my meals over a crummy
gaz thing which i light successfully only half the time.

I had a fling by any other name which did not work out ideally
with a young woman who is or became Marlene Dietrich or Marilyn Monroe
or Barbra Streisand or Lady Gaga or Madonna or some Major Somebody
I am too absentminded now and tired to remember who exactly. No,
of course they were and are not “all the same”That was never my point.
Anyway after I was alone up there for weeks, she comes to the door
knocking and in tears. I console her, let her in .What the hell happened?
No not very pissed she showed up, just stunned surprised and a bit
annoyed Not used to it and I am often but not always a creature of
habit like my dad or my uncles or grandparents or her or every person I met.Ever

She had to quit her job. Would she survive? She did not know
anybody else in the City I told her I was not much of a person to know.
and shrugged.She said something seemingly very angry and very
bitchy, kind of shut my mind down or turned it to oatmeal, not a
very pleasant thing. Could she please move in with me? Would I ever throw her out? Yes. I dont know .Hope not? Did not claimk to always know
what the hell I was doing. She kissed me very deeply, threw off
her thick sweater, we both stripped naked,went to bed but
were too tired though sort of aroused self evidently to do very much.
Just kissed and stroked..And stroked. Well Enough said, my young man.

Hours passed. Another knock at the door. Damn this was frigging
annoying!! I was not much of a screamer, more the type that got
screamed at. which was probably why I was in this Paris shithole
after all. I was a coward , a wimp, a loser, not even
a fraction of an adult man, like all those Great Men
in my Famiy and the ones I read about in international
and national histories: I ran away from all those
relentlessly smiling of relentlessly frowning screamers and
smiling fast
talkers and snarling eyebrow raising lecturers back at
The Reality and Responsiblity and Research Academy
Felt inadequate and rejected of coure but deep down
just couldnt’ stomach them a bit. Too much to bear.
Maddening but of course i was as they said ‘
hideously oversensitive to stimuli”

Who the hell would knock on my third floor door at three
in the morning? It was Biancee or Oprah or Sade or some
young black chick to use that word of the era standing there.
Smiling, all dark clothes. Could she come in? I hesitated
What the hell was I going to do? Shoot her, beat her up,
put her in jail or a madhouse or a work farm? Yeah why not.
Thanks , she said, What were you doing walking around Paris
at three in the morning I asked.”Its safe here” she said,
Its always safe here” I sighed “Hope its safe for everybody
all the time but I am sometimes a pessimist and I doubt things.
past present and future.”

he told me “shh” which bugged me a bit, but smiled, but then
she pulled her pants down including the underwear and took
out her tampon in front of us, a rather new sight for me
coming from my lilly white and hideously well structured
and hypocritical and hysterical home town..Very distracting
to say the least.

She lay at the foot of the bed naked, curled up and
within five minutes went to sleep., snoring almost imperceptibly.
Madonna or Lady Gaga or whoever was in bed next to me,
four inches away whispered to me across the pillow”
I left my job i had to but the young boy of the bourgeois
family told me and I thought I’d let you know that he thought
Herman Melville was actually French..” I shrugged,did
not want to think that one through and said “only his
accountant knows for sure”She called me a bunch of
horribly unromantic names that kind of stuck to my
unconscious like chewing gum or krazy glue or dirt
Felt ruined, destroyed, shattered defenseless
maybe even totally helpless and hopeless
damned and doomed paranoid schizophrenic or worse
which is the good , respectable and responsible
and always absolutely loveable honorable
and altuistic even saintly doctors of the mind
and brain say is as horrible as things can
ever get with that old delicate brain chemistry
but
did not or could not tell her that. Did not know how.

. Had no idea why she had to do that Rude. Violent.Stupid?
Defensive? Offensive? Castrating? Vengeful? Justified?
Question of dominance and submission? Accident? On purpose?
Born nature? The devil inside? Jealousy? Possesivenes?
A brain fart or sequence of such? A brain vart maybe.
Crude, Primitive. Nasty Barbaric. Ethnic custom?
A woman thing? I was pretty young then in Paris.
Not entirely sane either. not entirely regular or what
you would call normal or good or pure or healthy.
Too tired to fight back.Touched her slightly all over
to use her phrase. ,which
was nice to say the very least but ‘just not ready for work” put my head
between her breasts and , soon after she kind of covered
me up with her hair too and some pillow and a kiss,
I fell asleep.

We woke up in silence.I had had such nice dreams.
But could not recollect anything .Unusual.
Amid the usual repetitive nightmares.about bad aliens
and destruction Not going to tell them about that. . Felt bad.
Mission incomplete? Missions impossible?Missions
cancelled? Or missions delayed? Missions sabotaged?
Missions interrupted? None of the answers
that I could find in my own cultural background or I admit
those I tried not very successfully though not too deliberately
to borrow or adapt were at all gentle or soothing to my spirit.
As Biancee left and Lady Gaga joined her if only for the
morning’s shopping, they both said almost in synch but not
quite, the same phrase “Au revoir ” and then with
big smiles

“iA l’avenir !`and “Bonne chance”
“Good bye’ and “til we meet again in the future at some time!~”
and “good luck” and

“Bien sur’ (to be sure) I said in response.
Gaga came back a few hours later and we kind of argued
about food issues and cleaning and responsiblity and chores
and that dreary stuff. Dont know why. People are creatures of
habit i guess? But the other one had gone and it felt for many
reasons “incomplete” Was not entirely unaccustomed to that
so spent most of the day on my pillow inconsequentially
and stupidly and impotently perhaps. moping and then
nodded off for a long time.

I was a bit younger then. I had next to no money. You were or he was
or she was or it was or he/she or he/she was
a bit younger back then and had next to no money. I found cheap lodging
in a crummy hotel room in a bad district of Paris The time was Whenever.
The address was Nevermind. I live there heating my meals over a crummy
gaz stove thing which i light successfully only half the time.

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