THE TRUE STORY
I’m walking past a cheap Village hotel. It’s on a side street. I didn’t know it was cheap, but later I do, and a woman comes out of it, taller than I, much younger too, long heavy fur coat that looks worn and old and she says from a couple of yards away while she’s approaching me “Would you like me to be your date tonight?”
“What?”
“You didn’t actually hear me?”
“Only something about a date.”
“Would you like me to be your date tonight?”
“I really would but I’m going to a party now.”
“Oh well,” and she walks away.
I continue in the direction I was heading and then turn around. She’s near the corner, opening her handbag. I run to her. She turns around quickly as if expecting trouble.
“Oh,” she says. “What do you want?”
“Would you like to come to the party?”
“Thanks but no.”
“Why not?”
“I won’t know anyone there.”
“You’ll know me by the time we get there.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think you’ll know me? We could stop in a bar first for a drink.”
“Drink sounds okay but when I said no I don’t think so I meant I didn’t think I want to go to the party even if I knew you. I don’t like going to strange places with lots of strangers around. And my clothes aren’t nice. Really.”
“Your clothes are fine. Look at mine. It’s just my coat that’s nice.” I open my coat and show her my clothes. “And there won’t be many people. They’re all very pleasant, mostly friends.”
“I still won’t know any of them and they won’t appreciate me. They’ll say to you where’d you find me.”
“I’ll tell them ‘One hour ago outside this hotel.’”
“Thanks loads.”
“Why, what’s wrong? You were lonely, that’s what I’ll say. Or not that, that’s no good, but they know I’m single, so something that we’ll say happened to you like you just had a fight with your husband—”
“I have no husband.”
“I’m just making that up. Your husband or boyfriend or even your mother — for the story we’ll give these people at the party.”
“I don’t want to give anybody any story.”
“But say you did come with me.”
“I won’t.”
“But say you did.”
“Listen, it’s cold. I was about to phone someone, but you want to have a drink?”
“Sure. There’s a bar I know over there.”
We walk to it. It’s on Sixth Avenue. I say “So let’s say you came with me and I tell them you had a fight with your best friend or anyone like that and you were anxious to talk to someone about it or some serious problem you had and you saw me and it suddenly occurred to you then or maybe even when you were riding down the elevator of the hotel—”
“It has no elevator.”
“How will these people know?”
“They might ask what hotel and if I say which one they’ll know I’m lying because one of them could know that hotel and it has no elevator.”
“Okay. Let’s get our stories straight for them if we do go to the party.”
“I’m not, but okay, let’s get the story straight. You’re buying the drinks so you have the right to tell stories.”
“No more right than you have no matter who’s buying. You can tell one if you like and as long as you want it to be.”
“I don’t know any and I don’t like to.”
“Let’s just go in and order and we’ll talk some more.”
We go into the bar. I ask what she wants. She says scotch and soda. I order a glass of wine for me. Bartender gives the two drinks to us, I pay and we sit at a table in back. “Okay. Where were we?” I say.
“To your health.”
“To our health. Of course.” We click glasses and drink. “All right. You came out of the hotel without an elevator. The hotel had no elevator. We got that far. But while you were in the hotel in your room, we’ll say, you had a bad fight with your best friend — a male, who was up there chatting or dropping something off for you and you said to yourself right after he left ‘The hell with that guy. I’m going downstairs and make a date with the first decently dressed and seeming man that comes along, just to show him and also to have a good time.’”
“That never happened.”
“Say it did, that’s all I’m asking — I’m no psychic. You just had that quick-as-a-moment thought in your room. You wanted to teach that other man a lesson or do something wild tonight like ask a stranger for a date. Nothing’s wrong with that. If a man can do it, why not you? And people can understand that impulse or frivolousness and probably most have wanted to do it in the same circumstances too but never had the courage. And you did ask me.”
“I asked if you wanted me to be your date. You don’t know what that means?”
“I’m sure I do but maybe I don’t completely. What does it mean, just in case I don’t?”
“First tell me what you think it does.”
“That you wanted us to have a drink and talk and you’ll tell me your story, even if you say you don’t have one — why you asked to be my date and so on. And I’ll tell you mine or several and that’ll be after a couple of drinks and we’ll know something about one another by then and maybe later we’ll go to a movie or for dinner and I’ll walk you home and say good night and get your phone number if you don’t mind or I’ll come in and say good night till the morning when I’ll say good morning — you know what I mean. In other words it could end up with our possible sleeping together through the night. Or you might even end up at my place.”