Pardon?
The way you looked at me, I thought you were about to ask if I wanted a drink.
But I bought you a drink.
Yes I know.
I pointed to her orange juice which was untouched. Would you like a gin or something?
No.
Are you sure? A Cointreau?
It is two o’clock in the afternoon. Anyway, I dont drink much alcohol, only the odd occasion.
Could there be a more odd occasion than this, I wondered, but not aloud.
I was close to abstinent myself nowadays so it was a surprise she should refer to alcohol in that manner, as though I were an habitual drinker. I was never one. I knew habitual drinkers and knew their habits; enough to know about myself. We see ourselves in others and I did not see myself when I looked at them. Maybe she mixed me up with someone else, one of her other menfriends.
‘Menfriends’ was the word, they certainly werent boyfriends. Jennifer had men. So many I confused identities. Like she had confused me. It beat everything. Finally I knew where I came on the scale of things. So then she talked to me like she now was doing, as though I was a brother-confessor or some damn asexual jackass.
She spoke about them to me. She actually did that. I let her do it. I even expected it. I knew why she saw me and here it was again afuckinggain, seeing this married guy who lived apart from his wife and family. This is who she was seeing. God almighty. But it sounded complicated. She denied it was complicated. She attempted an explanation of why it was not complicated, why it was so uncomplicated, all of its uncomplicatedness. She was telling me! Why are you telling me, I said, I dont want to know, I’m not a brother-confessor for God sake a what-do-you-call-it, an objective bystander, some kind of monk.
Ssh. You are talking too loud.
I shook my head.
You always talk too loud. You do. I wish you would be less … If you would speak more quietly. You are too loud. Honestly Mike, you are. Really. I wish you would be more calm.
I looked at her.
Can you be? Please.
Okay, I said, but no wonder, hearing about your life, when you start telling me stuff it is so damn complicated it drives one absolutely bloody bananas. It is a complete hotchpotch.
If you dont speak more quietly I am leaving.
What?
Honestly now dont do it Mike, people can hear.
She was looking across to the bar. But the people there waited to be served. They were not eavesdropping. Only interested in their own order, what they were getting to drink and if somebody was going to be served before them, if they came first into the bar and someone coming behind them was served first before them. That could happen in this bar with mister seventeen bellies, it drove you insane. The bartenders here were not the worst but occasionally they ignored individuals out of spite. Nothing more nothing less. If you were the ignored individual it was tough luck. Except if you were new to the culture and neglected to tip. Oh my God what a criminal way to behave, the asshole dont tip. So people do not serve them! That was the mentality in this bar. I could get nauseated by the place. Why did I continue coming? There are perennial questions; that was one.
Some of the faces were familiar. I noticed them nod to the Duponzers and one of them even gave me a wave. He was in here most days of the week. An unhappily married guy. One time we spoke together and all he did was gossip and bitch, that was all he did. People squabbled. Over the pettiest of matters. If too many strangers were present they pretended things were friendly but they were not. As soon as a stranger became a regular he got drawn in too. Not just hes, they were shes. This was a bar where women could drink alone.
It was all meaningless crap. I hated it. Even when Jennifer and I were together. We treated it as a joke. Mr and Mrs Duponzer. One of those old European names now Anglicized. It sounded French and looked Dutch, maybe Belgian. I once asked them in a fit of boredom. They did not know. Mr Duponzer did not care. He only laughed. His wife did the talking. She thought it was an English name but maybe not, what did it matter.
People here didnt care about such stuff. If there were positive aspects to this bar then that was one. Issues around race and ethnicity were irrelevant. Generational gaps were different. I was one of the youngest regulars and was patronized accordingly. Which was interesting in reference to Jennifer. This married guy she was seeing, he was still married. Him and his wife lived in separate abodes during the week but under the same roof every weekend! For the sake of the kids.
Oh yeah. I cleared my throat when she said that, reached for the beer. Why did she fall for such crap? For the sake of the family, the collective unit. Whatever that was supposed to mean. In my experience families were not collective units, more like disparate noumena. Collective units is a joke.
Only for some, she said. Perhaps for you.
Mm, I said, and nothing further. This asshole went round and stayed with his wife and family every single weekend. He never returned to his own place until Monday evening, after work. Every Sunday morning they went bowling together, on Saturday evenings they had trips to the movies, they went to the park. All of it. They even went swimming to a members-only swimming club.
Her as well, I said, his wife?
His wife what?
She goes on these bowling and swimming trips?
I suppose.
Do you share his weekday home?
No. Although I could: if I wanted.
Has he asked you?
The option is there.
So he has asked you?
The option is there.
Mm. I nodded.
What?
Nothing.
So why are you saying mm and nodding your head in that manner?
What manner?
I said to you that the option is there and it is there.
Fine.
The two of us prefer it that way. It might sound incredible to you, sorry. But it’s common in other social circles.
That people have two homes?
Sometimes.
Jennifer that isnt social circles it’s economic circles. If what you’re saying is true then I wouldnt trust this guy as far as I could throw him.
Nobody is asking you to trust him.
It is garbage.
To you maybe. Other people dont see it that way.
If he is seeing his wife every weekend and then seeing you through the week, at his convenience, because at other times he is completely free, because you have your own place as well, so he can do whatever he likes, so I mean I dont know, he only just I dont know — except
What …?
I dont trust him, and would never trust him, not in a month of Sundays. You know what I’m talking about.
No Mike sorry, I dont.
Come on.
Come on what?
It’s obvious.
What’s obvious?
How do you know he doesnt have another girlfriend? I shrugged. Another two girlfriends? Three. Know what I mean, you’re talking transmitted diseases here.
Dont be revolting.
She gazed around to see if anybody was listening. Mr and Mrs Duponzer were staring into space. She shook her head. I cannot believe you, you are so horrible.
Well I’m not trying to be horrible I mean for God sake, does he wear condoms?
I beg your pardon!
I whispered, You are too trusting. That’s you all over just trusting people all the time, you always trust them.
I’m not discussing this with you.
Yes you are Jenny that’s exactly what you are doing. That’s why you came and dragged me out the house.
She stared at the untouched orange crap.
At least be honest about it. You are too trusting. Apart from where I’m concerned. You trust everybody except me, you believe everybody except me. And I’m the one, I’m the one …
I stopped. Because there was no point. And my head, my head was just — enough. Was there ever such a being as a weak woman? It was a figment of the collective male imagination.