July 19, 2005

When you’re finally alone with her in the kitchen, rip each other’s clothes off like monsters of longing in a world of dreams. “Now let’s make pasta,” she’ll say slightly out of breath. For a second you think something kinky is going to happen until she walks to the cupboard and actually pulls out two different boxes and asks you which you prefer. You don’t really like pasta so you pick at random. “That one, with the fur.”

She dumps it in a boiling pot and prepares spices and sauces while you keep grabbing her bum. You feel so useless in the kitchen when someone else is naked and busy preparing the food. When you finally sit down to eat, her past is so good the conversation plunges into absurdity - this is easily the best food you’ve ever eaten naked. And when you really enjoy something, you start talking nonsense:

“Today I saw the three legged dog down the road walking around the yard on four legs,” you begin. “I was surprised and afraid. His walk was funny and deformed as though he was missing something essential, something crucial to his happiness like a lung or a liver. I’ve seen dogs with twice as many legs as him run three times as lightly. Like an angry amputee, he was bothered by something.”

“Amputees are always vicious when they regain the use of their limbs,” you continue. “I’ve seen veterans stand up from their wheelchairs just to violently kick puppies and children. That’s why Jesus only helped the blind walk and insisted on crippling the living. The sudden recovery of full bodily functions is always dangerous.”

“I wanted to get closer to the three legged dog, but I realized that the red pants I was wearing were green.”

“You and your crazy talk!” she’ll say kissing you once you finish eating the pasta and talking nonsense. If you open your mouth to talk again you’ll get a slap on the ass. You’d like that.