by Rachel Levine
The formalities were done with and I lay down on the thin pad that college dormitories try and pass off as a mattress. The bed sank on his end, because he was a heavy fellow, with large hands and thick thighs. He strummed his lip and leaned against the wall. I don’t know if I thought he was attractive. His personality appealed to me and the first thing he said was, “I take psychoreactive drugs.” He showed me his pills and then showed me his collection of screws. “When I find screws on the ground, I know I’m on the right path,” he said. We went through his worldly goods, buttons, books, computer games. He didn’t read much, certainly not much that was of interest to me. None of it would have interested Michael much either, even though there were a few books from his area. “I’m about to fuck an illiterate,” I thought to myself. Yet at any time, I could have run for the door, excused myself graciously, and left him hanging. Now I was dancing close to some kind of limit -- only I didn’t really know where that limit would be. This heavy fellow with the large hands and thick thighs would paw me and I would let it happen.
He talked about his candle from the Gap. “I love the way it smells,” he said, thrusting it under my nose, “Here, smell.”
“Oh, smells so good,” I said.
“Would you like a foot massage?” he asked.
So tactlessly forward, I thought. Yet, we were both not interested in formalities.
I had set this whole thing in motion about a month ago. I set it in my head that I was going to make a man want me. Lacking great beauty or an unbeatably charismatic personality, I had to rely on my own wiles. I made a list of the 100 people I would most like to fuck along with two mutual friends. Adam was fairly high on the list -- certainly not the highest -- but close enough to number 15 or so that he would hear of it. I wanted to generate a buzz about me. In retrospect, it was all pretty manipulative, though I must admit that I had no real plan. I just wanted to be wanted. Anyway, sure enough, Adam got word of the list and his interest in me piqued as well. I saw his face light up when I came into a room and his eyes follow me as I walked away. The major go ahead was when he came up behind me while I was talking and began to massage my shoulders. Too easy! My experiment should have ended there. He wanted me and I had fulfilled all that I sought.
The great kicker, though, was that I wasn’t satisfied. That night, I didn’t stick around for the spectacle, but I paced the streets and came home to my real boyfriend and cried.©Rachel Levine 2003
