I walked over to N’s to bring her a key to my house and the Can, and to give her a pink Spalding ball so she can do the same therapy on her hand that I am doing. Apparently she fell apart in similar ways a year before me – the tennis elbow, the tendons stretched in her foot – god, give her hot flashes, and we could be identical twins. The Snake was in the yard on the phone with a friend in need – apparently “drama” happening in his life whereby he has left one woman for another and there is oh, how do you say in English, TENSION. Girl #1 keeps threatening Girl #2 with emails and voicemails and now Girl #2 no longer wants to sleep with the leading man. Ho hum.
I told N I was in a state – kind of chasing my tail – my senses seeming to be going off in all different directions – she listened. She asked about S and I said he was starting his new fancy job tomorrow. She said, “He’ll be hooked up soon.” I said yeah, I know it, he is over there making leeks and such. She said, “Yeah, you did a good job with him, now you’ve given a gift to the women of the world.”
She said that the guy the Snake was talking to is a poet of some acclaim and that he said one day that N is the best poet he knew – she said, “me, a poet?” He said she had a way with words like no other. I thought “I can see that” – that’s in a thought bubble – I didn’t actually tell her – there was something about the domesticity of the moment that made me nostalgic and I grew self-absorbed and didn’t snatch the opportunity to reach outside of myself.