My city of pretty girls

bins

March 2, 1992

There’s a new girl here at work and, boy, is she adorable. Suzanne. She’s too young for me. Fresh out of college. Her entire life has been spent in the warm cocoon of academia. This is her first dose of reality. I don’t think we have a damn thing in common but I’m going to launch a charm offensive when I get back from Mexico. She’s Jewish. I don’t think she’ll have anything to do with me once she finds out I’m not. That’s usually how it plays out.

She lives in Cobble Hill, which is a much nicer part of Brooklyn than Fort Greene. Michele told me she’s currently dating two men and isn’t crazy about either one. What a shame. She’s got long, straight, jet black hair that I want to run my hands through. I can picture the slender threads pouring between my fingers like water. I *think* she’s flirting with me. She was sealing an envelope and licked it very slowly while looking at me through the tops of her eyes. She dipped her head slightly and that beautiful black hair cascaded over her shoulders. She licked. Our eyes locked. Time stopped dead. So I’m going to ask her out.

On Friday I rushed home and had a quick run. I was going to see Life in a Blender at Brownies on Ave A but Ann Marie called and wanted to meet me for a drink. Who am I to refuse? We met at El Teddy’s. I paid $6 for a scotch and soda that was made with very bad scotch. We split a portabella mushroom cap that was about the size of a dinner plate. I picked up the tab. I’ve got to cut down on that. It’s wiping me out.

After El Teddy’s I walked her to her sister’s loft in Tribeca. She lives in a warehouse. Access to her apartment is through a loading dock. It looks pretty grim and marvelous. The neighborhood is dirty. I like it. I was hoping to be invited up but it didn’t happen.

We were kissing in the dark amongst trucks backing-up to load deliveries. I opened my eyes mid-kiss (because I like to do that sometimes) and I saw a giant rat walking about ten feet behind her. Walking slowly, like it didn’t give a damn about us. We broke and she started to turn away, so I grabbed her and kissed her again. I think she thought I was overwhelmed with lust (which is partially true) but I didn’t want her to see the rat. It would’ve spoiled a nice moment.  I opened my eyes again and saw it walk into a shadow under the loading dock.

Kissing someone new is a real treat. Those first few sessions are a genuine thrill. You never know what you’re going to get. I live in joyful anticipation of my next new kiss. Ann Marie can kiss better than Ann, but not quite as well as Candace. I wonder if Suzanne knows what she’s doing? No two girls kiss exactly alike. They’re like snowflakes.

Candace and I are going to CBGBs on Saturday night for the Black Rock Coalition jam. Those guys always play loud. Really, really loud. Too loud. She said she might get comps. I sure hope so. I’m kinda broke-assed.


Speaking of pretty girls in New York, take a look at these beauties. She’s life-sized. You should click on this.

DurgaMa
Oil and bronze

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Isn’t she delicious? She’s by contemporary artist Carole Feuerman and she’s meditating in the window of the C24 Gallery in Chelsea. The exhibit features her new sculptures and paintings.

Leda and the Swan
Oil and resin

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Feuerman is a hyperrealist, which is a made-up word but I’m going to give ground because I think these sculptures are fetching.

Monumental Quan
Painted bronze and stainless steel

feuerman3

She needs more than one pic. Right?

feuerman4

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