I’m telling a story,
A beautiful young woman, Adair, leaves her loving Nebraska family and community to go to NYC. There, she meets a woman named Ghislaine.
I’ve used some words and phrases I cannot countenance:
(1) Tampon;
(2) “Grab their pussy.”
I’m using the word “tampon” because I believe it reintroduces some reality. I’m talking about a beautiful young woman, and though it appears this is an abstraction, or that I am speaking of her abstractly, by using the word “tampon”, and this is all I can do, I want to remind us what I am talking about is rudely, startlingly real.
Adair is leaving Nebraska, boarding a Greyhound Bus. Amazing how, on a truly crewd lewd poorly crewed, motley, printemp, morning after, a Greyhound Bus station is a happening place. It is to the point 9 East 71st Street has nothing on any Greyhound Bus Station. The porcelain is the same, and the porcelain is beautiful. Plus, porcelain kinda rhymes with Ghislaine, or is that an assonance?
The “grab their pussy” phrase, or remark, or whatever it is, I have picked up with particular regret and dismay.
You get to go to 9 East 71st Street, and have a sit down chat. You’re an adult. Adair is eighteen at the time. She votes. She could get shipped off to war, too. “Take a load off, Adair. Take a load off, affair. Take a load off friendzone, and put the load, put the load, right next to Noam Chomsky, Woody Allen (Allen Koningsperg) right on, right on…. Jeffie E.!
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