Curtain up..act 6

The next day at the staff meeting, Otto was reading the city review. They loved the play. Everything in it was complimentary and in the very end the reviewer mentioned the Moorish dance and said it was highlighted by the comedic skills of a newcomer they hoped to see more of. I was just happy the review was good, it meant that life around the theatre would be easy going for the next six weeks. I was blankly smiling and everyone at the table was staring at me when it hit me. I jumped up and grabbed the paper yelling, "Is he talking about me? He's talking about me!!" Of course..the reviewer had used the dance teacher's name which was printed in the program..not mine. So, I had only half heard it until it registered that the dancer was ME. They all started laughing at me and I turned bright red. Okay, I deserved that. But, man, I was pretty tickled. I sat back down with a stupid grin I couldn't wipe off. I was a true theatre geek now. No denying it. The best part was when Maurice said the dancer had called and she didn't break her ankle, she could come back in a week. Otto dismissed him, saying she could try out for the next production, he had his belly dancer. He didn't even look up when he said it. I just tried to stop grinning and act like it was just another day. But, I doubt I'm that good of an actress. Heh. Maurice rolled his eyes. 
* 
I got my paycheck and got ready to move out. I called the landlord who had become a friend and he not only had an apartment in town for me, but, he came with his truck and moved my big stuff. Harry could not believe it. I think he was stunned that I was actually leaving and he just stood around with his hands in his pockets, saying nothing. Looking like one of those sad big eyed kid paintings. I wasn't falling for it. I had to stay one last night before they turned on the utilities in my new place. On that last day I had a huge liquor order for the bar and I had to unload it alone. There was a whole truckload. It was fucking heavy and I was a mess. It was windy that day and my frickin' hair was blowing out of the ponytail and into my face and I was dressed like a homeless man in fannel and denim. I didn't expect anyone to even be at the theatre. At least not at the side entrance I was using. As I carried the last case down the narrow stairway into the small basement storage room I'd taken over for liquor, I heard someone come in the opposite door upstairs. As I placed that last box on the huge stack, my chest was heaving and I looked up the stairway to see shiny wingtip shoes coming down. It had to be Otto. What the fuck was he doing down here? I was the only one who used this room. I turned around and looked up. He came almost to the bottom of the stairs where I was standing and he stopped. He just stood there staring at me. I'm pretty sure we were the only two in the building. He knew that as well as I did. As I looked at his face, I knew this visit had nothing to do with work. It was clear he'd come down those stairs because he knew I was there and he wanted some kind of contact. What, I wasn't quite sure, but, I could guess. A million things flased through my mind. Not all of them good. The differences between us were vast, there was the age, who I was and who he was..just to start. Our lives. Our..everything. Besides, I was green, but, did he think he could bend me over a beer box? Really? Is that how you treat someone who loves you? Could you possibly love someone when this is what you thought of? Him, I meant. Jesus. And would I do it? How could I not? And until the next day when I got moved, I was still not technically free. All this was going through my head as we stared at each other. There were no familiar grins. No lecherous eyebrows. The real distance between us was only a few feet, but, in my head it was millions of miles and I was scared shitless. I didn't show it though. I leveled my gaze straight at his and we stood there and weighed it all. Together. Nothing was said. It was heavy. It was heavier than any acid I ever took. It felt like hours, but, was probably only a few minutes and he slammed the banister with his hand and turned around and stomped back up the stairs. I collaped on a beer case and sat there for awhile trying to breathe.

I moved out the next day. Certainly that experience in the basement haunted me. I could analyze it for days. I had it bad for Otto. I knew he had something for me. Maybe he wasn't used to women and had no idea what to do with me. Maybe he couldn't cross the boss/employee line? Maybe he knew I was too emotionally involved? Maybe this, maybe that..maybe he just sized me up and figured I wasn't worth the trouble. Who knows? I do know I moved into my apartment and ignored Harry and life went on. The apartment was right on the small town square. It was modern and someone had installed new cherry red appliances and burnt orange shag carpets with white walls. It was ugly and lonely. I hated it and the least said about it, the better. Still, it was better than coming home to someone who pushed me around and made a fool out of me.

Otto seemed mad at me. He ignored me and avoided the bar, even on show nights. That's the way it seemed to me anyway. He seemed to cut off all contact with me and even left our meetings as soon as they were done. Everybody noticed it and no one could figure it out. I wasn't giving them any hints. Harry, on the other hand, made up any excuse to be in the bar and give me puppy eyes. He'd offer to help me carry liquor cases and hook up CO2 canisters. Shit work he'd been too good for before. I always told him, no thanks. He told me he'd cut down on his drinking and I told him that was good. I wanted to ask him if he cut down on sticking his dick in untalented whores, but, it wasn't my business anymore. As for the whore, she'd been fired for diva behavior and no chops to back it up. My parting shot to her was making her a scotch and water from the fishbowl. Which I hadn't cleaned in a week. Enjoy that, cunt. Don't judge me. That bitch actually came into the bar from the dining room and said to me, 'My friends and I will be having cocktails in here." Like she had a reservation. Then she snapped her fingers at me and said, 'Chop, chop." She deserved to drink fish shit. I also called her a cunt flap as she was leaving in her daddy's car. Bye, cunt flap. She acted appalled and one of her own friends told her to shut up, that she broke up a family. She broke up an entire commune actually. With me gone, the house went to hell and Harry kept 'forgetting' to pay the rent he collected.

Worse was yet to come. At least I still had my job and my friends at the theatre, right? I had this one girl friend who worked in the box office. We'd always hung out and it was always understood that she was one of Otto's followers. Well, we all were, but, it seemed she planned her life around him. She'd come with him from his past theatre. Kwan, was her name. She was this cutish book smart Asian girl with a college degree. She wore black glasses and had long black hair. She was tiny and kind of adorable in a geeky way. Otto was about as interested in her as he was in country music, which is to say, not much. But, he respected her intelligence and honesty. He paid her well and she knew she'd always have a place with him. I liked her a lot, she was sweet and could be funny in odd ways. Ways she didn't mean to be funny. If she'd been evil funny, Otto probably would have followed her around. But, she wasn't and I figured she'd always be in love in vain. Little did I know. We started hanging out outside the theatre. I was so thankful to have a normal girl friend who wasn't an actor. She saved my sanity. We'd grab the kid and go on picnics or we'd go on road trips, singing in the car. We went to the movies, cooked dinners. Normal stuff. She watched my kid sometimes, she seemed to like him and she never had a date. I couldn't figure that out. I was really young and for all my crap, I was still naive in some ways.

About two months had passed since I moved out of the commune and I had nothing going on outside of work. I mean nothing. Other than Kwan, I didn't even have anyone local I could chat on the phone with.  I lived in a horrible apartment, in a goddamn rodeo town and outside of work, I knew no one. Otto had not said one word to me in all that time. It was the oddest thing. Little did I know, he had bigger fish to fry. One morning he called a meeting. As we all gathered around the table, he seemed nervous, out of charactor. He finally just said it. The theatre was losing money because of it's rural location and Felicia had finally put the brakes on the enormous financial backing. Wilber had had enough. I knew Felicia would never get what she really wanted and she'd finally had to face it. If Otto would have slept with her, she would have written another million dollar check, but, there are some things you just can't do. Lifting her sweaty folds and smelling her vile breath up close was apparently one of them. The play we had started was to be the last one. So this was why Otto had been so distant. He was planning his escape from the Midwest and all it's hicks and rednecks. It hadn't been me at all. Silly me. Like I could affect this man. We were all devastated, it was like a death. For the rest of them, theatre would go on. They could take to the road, go to the city, audition, go on. I was different. I had baggage. I couldn't just do whatever I wanted anymore. The kid was in school, I was uneducated, alone and at that time, I thought, unhirable. I was knocked into a deep chasm of nothingness. Shock. I don't think anyone knew the depth of it. The thought of being left behind in that dreary place without them all was unimaginable.

One day, Kwan and I were sitting on my fake leather love seat (I'd let Harry keep the couch) talking about what we would do and she said, I love you. And I said, aww, I love you too, Kwan...and she kissed me. You could have knocked me over. So, this is why she never had a date with a man. She wasn't in love with Otto, christ, she was in love with me? Now I knew why she used her business degree in theatre. It was the one place she could follow her heart and not be cast out of society. Well, fuck me. I tried to explain to her that I had no big hang ups about people having fun, it was the era of free love, but, I was basically straight. The only experience I had with lesbianism was a tripped out three way with some friends and all I remember was laughing a lot and I sure as hell didn't kiss any woman. I didn't want to kiss women or be romantic with women. It was weird and uncomfortable. She started yelling that I was just like the rest, whoever they were, and stormed out the back door. At the front door came a loud violent pounding. I was so confused, I opened the door up and Harry punched me hard in the face. I was still holding the door knob! A total sucker punch. For a small guy, he packed a whollop. I went down to the floor on my ass and he stormed through my house demanding to know who I had there. He didn't find anyone. I should have called the cops, but, it was ingrained in me that us theatre people never started any kind of trouble in town. We were seperate, like gypsies. You handled things on your own. I was badly hurt. He broke my nose and blacked both my eyes with that one punch. Blood was everywhere. I said nothing and just sat on the floor, bleeding and staring at him. He left.

I was so ashamed of the whole incident that this is the first time I have told it to anyone, but, Shirl. It was just terribly shameful to me that I would be involved in something like that. I went to work with seven layers of pancake makup on and a pair of fake glasses I found in the prop room. They helped cover the purple and green lines on my face. My eyes were actually swollen shut that first night after it happened. I must have looked ridiculous, but, no one said anything. I got some shocked stares, but, no one asked because I wasn't talking to anyone. Even Felicia did a double take the first time I came into the kitchen. I wouldn't look anyone in the eye. It was made doubly bad when I realized everyone thought I'd been sleeping with Kwan and had broken her heart. I don't think too many people knew how naive I could be. I mean, for christ sake, I always figured if you had a secret like that, you'd tell your girl friend. And everyone loved Kwan. Poor Kwan. I felt bad for her too, but, I was only guilty of missing the clues. I never wanted to see her hurt and I missed her. She was crying all the time and I couldn't even defend myself because I was too ashamed to even talk to anyone. It was like I'd become the enemy of all the open gays. Some of it was probably in my confused head, but, this is what I thought. I was the only one who hadn't known Kwan was gay. In some of their eyes, I led her on. Sometimes I wondered if that was true, I was so confused and felt worthless. Now, I realize it wasn't true or I wouldn't have been so surprised when she kissed me. I'm sure Felicia talked the whole thing up. Gossiping. I know she did, I caught her at it. I said nothing. It took me a few weeks to heal. Weeks totally void of human contact and enhanced by embarassment and the shame of letting a man beat on me. It was so low life. By that time, I let Harry move in with me. Oh, I know what you're thinking. What I was thinking was that he begged, he pleaded, he said he would never hit me again, he said he would never cheat on me again and I didn't believe him, but, he was all I had to hang on to. My whole life was going away. I don't know if you can even understand it. My job was gone, my only girl friend in that horrid town now hated me, Otto and Maurice were leaving, there was nothing left. Except Harry. Where would someone like me ever find anyone like Harry again? What if he was telling the truth and really had changed and I didn't take the chance on him? By beating me up and making me so ashamed of it, he had isolated me. Totally. That made me vulnerable to him. Only women who have been hit can understand this. 

Two days after he moved in, Otto came back to me. He had apparently found his place in life, secured it and was happy with the whole turn of events. Now, he could be himself again and he was joyous. Maybe he really didn't see how devastated I was. It's not like I wore my heart on my sleeve. No, I was my usual hard, wisecracking self. I enjoyed his company more now though. Barriers were down. When he'd catch me pulling up my stocking and give me a wolf whistle, I'd grin, walk up to him, look him up and down and give him 'the look.' The pouty naughty one he'd loved on stage so much. The first time I did it, it caught him so off guard his eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open. He actually sucked in his breath audibly. It was so out of charactor for him that I laughed out loud at him. So, now I knew, it wasn't an act or a bit. He wanted me. He may not have wanted me for anything but sex, but, he wanted that. It pissed me off that I'd been free for two months and he ignored me and now I was back with Harry and here he was..following me like a groupie back stage at a rock concert. I would never have taken Harry back if Otto had even come in the bar and said hello.  I know he had a life crisis, but, really? Fuck that, I thought, I would never have done that to him. Well, everything was ending, wasn't it? I had nothing to save face for. No future to think about. I played with his mind all the time. The best sex is always what's in your head, and I was in his head all the fucking time. I made sure of it. I'd walk by him, stop and stare in his eyes, narrowing mine and purse my big lips like Tim Curry offering to call you a Satanic mechanic and run my finger slowly down his chest. Then with gutterual laughter at his reactions, I'd walk away. And not look back. I enjoyed it. It might have been better than sex. The rest of them could watch, I didn't care what they thought anymore. Felicia could suck it, so could Harry. Otto was like a willing victim, spending every minute of his free time in the bar. His tie always seemed to be too tight when I was around. His cigarette would grow a long ash as he stared and day dreamed and fall on his dress shirt. He hardly heard people when they talked to him. It was so ridiculous. It was almost like the tables had been turned and I was over him while he became my stalker. Almost. I wasn't over him. At all. Who said I couldn't act? I regretted letting Harry move in, but, I had and that was that. Wasn't it? I made sure I was never alone with Otto. Never. I wouldn't be put in that position with someone who had that much power over me again. Not when he was leaving me behind. I wanted the power, so I took it. The only way I knew I how.




Curtain Up..the final act


Harry hadn't quit drinking. He was the same as he always was. Only now he was even more belligerent, though he hadn't hit me again. I think even he was ashamed of that. He should have been. I was just waiting for it to all end and wondering what the hell I was going to do. One thing happened in that last week that I have to tell you. One day Harry came home from the town bar with a huge black eye. He refused to talk about it, saying he just got into a fight with a redneck. It was not  like him, he was charming to everyone who didn't know him well and got along with everyone in town. He was a small guy and I'd never ever seen him come close to a physical fight with anyone but me. I accepted what he said and shrugged it off as a life lesson for him. He needed one in my opinion.


The last day of work came and I went in to leave the bar spotless. I didn't know what would happen to the beautiful old building, but, they would find it very clean. I was also going to pick up my last check. ( I later found out that Otto had included some generous severance pay on mine. He did not give Harry one extra dime.) Harry went with me and that was strange. He actually helped, taking all the rubber matts out and cleaning them with the hose and other chores he'd never done. He stayed so close to me it was unnerving. He wouldn't leave me alone in the room and was withing touching distance at all times. Maybe he really had changed? It was just very odd. Almost unpleasant and smothering. Kind of creepy really. I hadn't said goodbye to Otto. I didn't know if I would. As I was finishing up, the bar phone rang. I answered it and it was Otto. There was a pause and he said, come upstairs. His voice nearly undid me. My usual smart assed self kicked in before I could think it out and I said, in an awful smart assed way, what for? There was another pause and Otto said quietly and evenly, I think you know what for. There was a pleading in his voice I'd never heard..a vulnerability. My grin faded, Harry stepped so close to me, we were touching and he whispered, "I will kill you." I knew he meant it. I was so confused and shocked I said, into the phone....I.....can't. Otto said, okay, then. It was so final. So awful. I really could hear the hurt in his voice with those two little words. I did not imagine that. And he hung up. I knew he was leaving the next day. I wanted to go up there and at least say goodbye or you know, fall into bed with him. But, I didn't. I could not handle the thought of Harry standing down at the bottom of those stairs. Even though he'd done it to me with no remorse. The thought of him picking a fight in front of Otto or with Otto was unthinkable. Otto had no way of knowing Harry was right there. I can only imagine what he thought.  I was also still mad at Otto for not talking to me for two months when I was free. And now? Now, he comes up with this? Really? Tear off a last piece of Midwestern hick ass before you say so long, see ya, goodbye forever? Experiment with some dreaded hetrosexuality with someone you'll never see again? That's insulting.




We silently got in the car and went home. I was dying inside. When we got into the apartment, Harry started talking. Fuck Giotto Bernini, he said, fuck him. Fuck his shit. I was like , what the fuck? I was listening to this goof ball go on and on about what a fucker Otto was and I finally said, what did he ever do to you besides give you a job being a big shot doing nothing? He went off full tilt boogie then. "Oh, you cocksucking bitch, do you think I don't know you were fucking him for years? Do you think he's so fucking good? He's a fucking queer, is what he is. He couldn't give a fuck about you. AND he blacked my eye, so fuck him."


Holy shit. Otto blacked Harry's eye?? I had no idea. Harry went on to say Otto stuck his big Italian nose in our business when he found out Harry had beat me up and he actually punched him. Oh my fucking god. Otto in his Italian suit and wingtips had decked Harry...in defense of me. He had told Harry if he ever touched me again, he'd be dead or in jail and fuck the theatre codes of behavior. I was stunned. Harry went on cussing Otto, but, I walked out. Otto had defended me. Otto had tried to protect me. Otto cared about me.  I jumped in the car and I went back to the theatre. I floored it. I slammed it into third gear when I hit the gravel and fishtailed, I spun the wheel and never took my foot off the gas. I sceeched to a halt in the parking lot and left the car door open to run up the steps. The door was locked. I went round to the kitchen and Felicia was still there gathering all her designer cookwear. I burst in and said, where's Otto? She looked at me with a grin and said, gone. No, he can't be gone, he's leaving in the morning. Where is he? Where is he, I shouted! She enjoyed it. She said, after you left he decided to go to NYC early. He left about a half hour ago. He's gone, you stupid girl. I told her she was a giant fat cunt and she started screaming at me that I was the reason he left. That she'd have had one more night with him if it wasn't for me.  I went out to my car and cried like a baby. I sobbed until I had nothing left. I never saw or talked to Otto again. It was over, he was gone. Oh, I could have contacted him. I knew where he was, but, what was I supposed to say...gee, thanks for caring about an ignorant hippie girl, but, I chose a woman beater over you. Yeah, right. He went to New York and became a small fish in a big pond. Off, off Broadway. Then he moved up. And up. And for years, no matter how broke I was, I kept a subscription to the Times so I could read the arts section and keep up with his career. He's quite famous and rightfully so. He never married. Maurice died in a plane crash a year later and Otto moved in with his widowed sister in her penthouse mansion that they shared. She was the financial backing for his new productions and because he now had a real audience, it payed off well. He is well loved, well off and still called a charming genius to this day. He is retired now, his hair is long, white and still naturally curly and he walks with a silver headed walking stick through Central Park. He still favors Italian leather wing tips. He still smokes occasionally, though it's a treat now. Tid bits gleaned from theatre fan articles. Now I can read about him on the Internet and every week there is something about him, still, after all this time. He has several fan blogs where geeks brag about meeting him and shaking his hand and talk about how nice he is and how funny. There are even a few pictures, though he hates the camera. I have saved them all. I have never posted on any of those sites. I have no idea if he reads them.


As for me and Harry we moved back to my home town and he got a job at a local radio station. He played soft rock and did bank commercials. It was enough to make you puke. I got a job in a disco. I fucking despised disco and still do.  Harry still sponged off me and he still slapped me when he got mad. He also cheated on me. He borrowed my money and my car to do it. The end came when I decided to go to school and get a degree. Harry said I couldn't, I wouldn't be accepted because I never went to high school. So, in one day, I went and got a GED and the next day I took the ACT tests and scored very high. I got to skip freshman english. As soon as Harry knew I was serious about attending, even though I had a 60 mile drive in a junker every day, he flipped out. It meant I would not be bringing home money for him to spend on whores for a few years. He didn't even try to hide his cheating anymore. He figured I was a loser who would put up with anything. He was wrong. One day, after I'd found another cheap plastic earring in my car that didn't belong to me, I told him to fuck the fuck off. He slapped me. I grabbed my kid and got in my car and he followed me. I was digging for the keys when he reached through the passenger window and grabbed my little boy's neck. He said, get out of the car or he gets it. Eric's eyes went big and he looked at me. That was it. I jumped across that car and went for him. "Get your fucking hands off my son!" I went right out the passenger window. I hurled myself on him like a stray dog on a pork chop. I was yanking his hair, biting him, anything I could do. He stumbled and went down in the yard, but, I wasn't done with the bastard. I could hear my little boy yelling, get him, mom, beat his ass! I yelled at him to run to grandma's (across the street) and call the cops. He took off and I went back at Harry. He'd gotten up and was running for the house. I tackled him and wrapped myself around his back, punching and biting. I pulled out big wads of his hair and slammed his head into the door frame.  He screamed like a girl, threw me off and ran inside. I jerked the screen door right off it's hinges going in after his no good ass. I jumped on him again. He punched me in the face and I punched him right back. His nose was bleeding and he started crying, my nose, my fucking nose! You bitch, you cunt! I yelled the same, you little whiney cunt. Oh, yer nose, boo fucking hoo! He doubled up his fist to punch me again but, he made the biggest mistake of his life. He told me this.."Yeah, you could have gone to NYC with Otto. Didn't know that, did you, bitch? He had a job for you and he called you upstairs that day to ask you and your kid to go with him. So, fuck you, ha ha ha!" White hot fury from the depths of satan's barbeque came over me and I grabbed an iron skillet off the stove and whammed it right into the side of his fucking head. Screaming, "I will kill you, mother fucker!"  He staggered around, so I hit him again. When he was down, I kicked him as hard as I could. I remember that I was wearing hard soled heavy leather oxfords. Black and white oxfords. Remember them? I have no idea why. I never wore them. I kicked him so hard I actually had to back up and run at him, leg swinging. He screamed and cried and turned over to protect his face, so I kicked him in the ass crack about a dozen times. I also kicked him in the ribs. I heard them snap. I don't know what demon possessed me that day, but, while he was on the floor bleeding and crying, I pulled down my jeans and pissed on his head. I really fucking did and I am not a bit sorry. While I was pissing on his beautiful head, I asked him, ''Do you still like beating girls, mother fucker? Do you?" All the while punching him in the kidney.  Then the cops came busting in. They hauled me outside, it took three of them. I had one shoe missing and my shirt had been totally ripped off and was dragging beside me hanging by one cuff. I had a bra on at least and they let me pull up my pants.  I was covered in blood. I think it was Harry's. Most of it, anyway. An ambulance was called for Harry and he spent the next 5 days in the hospital with broken ribs,  a concussion, a skull fracture, a damaged tail bone and a bunch of other injuries ranging from a split lip to bald patches. Those were the worst ones though. I had a broken nose (again) and some cuts on my knuckles and a broken toe. Not too shabby. I felt wonderful for the first time in a year. I felt alive. I was grinning like I was demented and heaving, out of breath. I wonder if the cops hadn't come, would I have killed him? Naaa, I was winding down when I pissed on him. Maybe.  Anyway, the cops put me in handcuffs and in the back of the patrol car asked for my side. My kid came running back and told them Harry started it and he tried to choke him and he hit me. The neighbors had gathered by this time and backed him up. For once in their donut eating lives they did the right thing. They let me go. I packed all Harry's stuff and dumped it right in his latest whore's front yard. I never took him back again, though the idiot actually tried. Seriously, Harry? After you laid a hand on my kid and then admitted you ruined my life??? To this day he tries to pretend we're friends. I let him have his illusions, but, he is no friend of mine. I'd kill him if I could get away with it. Was he telling the truth about Otto wanting me to go to NYC? Probably not. Maybe. Who the fuck knows? Only Otto knows.  I know it almost cost Harry his life. He later moved to New York and asked Otto for a job. Otto told him to fuck off so he became a college proffessor in some snotty asshole East coast college. He married some chick for her money and she ran off with his best friend. She died of a brain tumor and her second husband raised Harry's daughter.  Most of his money went for child support after that. He still comes back here ever Summer and he can still fuck off. My son never remembered the incident and until he died, they would always get together as adults. He thought he was a great guy. All Eric remembered was living at the theatre and us taking him to rock concerts, the ocean and the Statue Of Liberty. Kid's head's are great, aren't they? 


I kept going to college and graduated in three years by taking extra hours every semester and going Summers. I took the kid with me in the Summer. THAT he remembered..good. I still miss my old job and Otto. I think about him a lot. Wondering. Which does nobody any good. You cannot change bad choices. You  can not change your fate. Wouldn't it be nice if you could? If I could change that day, I would have said, fuck you, Harry, and ran up those stairs and told Otto I was going to go to New York City come hell or high water.  I wouldn't wait until he asked me. I would have believed with all my heart that I had a right to go. A place in his world. I would have also told him I loved him. Because I did. If he laughed at me, I'd go anyway. Even if I had to be a pole dancing hooker to do it. That's what I would do. Here I sit, with a college degree I never use and mostly got because I knew Otto would have been proud of me, and I desperately wanted only to be equal to those around me when I already was. He tried to tell me that, but, I didn't get it then. Now,  I read about him on the Internet like some obsessed fan. And the best thing that came of it all was teaching my daughter to believe in herself and make better choices. Which she has. Oh, and the fact that I never allowed another man to touch me in anger. Not even close. Unless he had a gun to my head, but, that's for the next story. I went on to another phase of my long short life and it was pretty interesting too. At least to me. But, I have never gotten over Otto, so that tells me something about how I felt about him and how real it was.


LIFE..You fall out of your mother's womb, you crawl across open country under fire, and drop into your grave.  ~Quentin Crisp