Beaded Lady

Right in front of your face. Up close and very personal. That’s one way to make sure that someone can’t ignore you. You’ve heard of personal space? Get right into it, and I’ll guarantee they’ll notice you. Of course, you better ensure you’re ready for a fight. That much lousy breath is an assault all by itself without spit flying into their face or your slurred words calling them everything from a person who does obscene acts with pigs to someone who, well, you get the picture.

He stood about five feet tall and was righteously angry at me. He thought I’d been making eyes at his girl all night. Of course, I’d noticed her. How can you miss a bright redhead all done up in a gown made entirely of loosely hung beading?
I tried explaining to him that I had enough problems keeping my eye on Charlotte, my girlfriend, who’d danced with everyone else tonight – but not me. I pointed to Charlotte, who was busy fawning over the head of the Philosophy Department. He was trying to explain something about the Trolley Problem to her while taking in the panoply of long legs, blonde hair, and sweet, innocent smile. She entwined her hand in his. I felt a surge of jealousy.

Then I turned and told Stubby that I was leaving to go into Center City. Smokey Joe’s was a friendlier place to be than here. I was surprised he followed me out to the trolley stop. We got off at 30th Street and walked to Smokey Joe’s. After that, it was the Trocadero and a few other places. With all the walking, we were pretty sober when we returned to the West End. After all that walking and all that talking, we each had an appreciation for the other’s women issues. I told him that I just had bad taste in women and picked out the most challenging, argumentative, and independent ones, expecting that they’d change. Stubby confessed to liking the outre – piercings, tats, extreme makeup, even dental oddities. The beaded lady was just his latest fantasy. He joked that from now on, he’d let the Magic Eightball select his girlfriends, and I quipped that I’d let my cat decide – if he approved, good.

We never saw each other again, but I felt like I had found a brother. We were both hung up on what could not be controlled or corralled. It was on offer only briefly and at a great price.

But by the way, the cat thing? It worked out.