Sitting on the couch was a ravishing oriental girl who resembled someone I had seen at Ohio University, Athens. She was wearing a blue night gown partially open so I could see her pubic region. When she saw me, she quickly covered herself. Realizing I knew her, I sat down beside her and we began watching television. Feeling comfortable with her, I put my arm around her: I felt as if I were falling in love.

She told me either my father or Buckner had asked her to go to bed with him and she wanted to know what I thought she should do. I was completely taken aback. I had thought she was the sweet innocent type, but now she seemed ready to hop into bed with someone. I falteringly replied she should know the person better before doing such a thing. Then, awkwardly, I sputtered that I wouldn't mind going to bed with her myself.

The television show seemed like a cross between the movies Three Days of the Condor and The French Connection. People were constantly being murdered. One man stepped onto a train and shot four middle-aged Jewish women, hesitated, then shot a fifth one twice. When he ran out of bullets, he simply slugged a sixth woman in the mouth and ran off.

I couldn't concentrate on the show; during a commercial I stepped from the room. When I returned, the oriental girl was sitting on the floor instead of the couch. Turbulent and confused, I sat by her for a moment, then returned to my original place, as if to say I wasn't going to chase her. I said as much to the other people in the room, but glancing toward the oriental girl and noticing tears had sprung to her eyes, I couldn't help returning to her. I was in love and confused by what she had said earlier; but when I put my arms around her, I simply melted.

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