After the two dinners (yesterday’s post, “The First Time”) I went back to the cheap motel near Barry’s apartment. I have no idea where it was, it strikes me we weren’t far from Golden Gate Park, near the bridge. It was a standard in-town chain motel, with very thin walls. My best guess was that there were two sheets of sheetrock separated by 2” x 4” studs without anything else. It was close.In the next room there was a couple, in a post- party mode, maybe even a post-coital mode but I obviously missed that part. They were clearly in bed having a conversation with just the three of us.
The woman was the assistant to the guy, and they had been at a work related party. They discussed and put down most of the people who attended, and had a great time explaining all the sorted and assorted relationships in the room.
At first I was concerned that they would keep me awake, but I ended up enjoying the evening’s events without ever getting bored. I drifted off to sleep hearing about the day’s news. I think they finally got around to the inevitable (or the inevitable the second time) but I was dreaming at that point.
In the morning they were gone and I never got to see them.
Once upon a time, a long time ago, in Amsterdam, I was walking up the stairs to my hotel room when I heard a couple (whose door was inexplicably open) in the initial, premonitory, stages of love-making. I tried to stop in my tracks--in order not to distract them--but they must have sensed my presence in their state of hyper-awareness. There was a gasp, and all went silent, except my pulse. I continued up to my room.
ReplyDeleteBy the way--nice picture. That must be the actual room.
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