Tuesday, April 27, 2004
	She lives in a condominium on Clearwater Beach, Florida and we are walking barefoot on that beach saying things to one another that men and women are supposed to say to one another.
	"It's a pretty sunset," I say.  I am imagining the two of us balling on the beach on a bed made out of sand and shells and cigarette butts. "It is," she says.  She is good to look at. "How old is your child?" I say wanting to sound like a mature, developed, worldly man.  "Four," she says.  She's pleased I've shown an interest in her kid and smiles but it's not the quick effortless smile of a carefree woman but instead it's a slow guarded gradual smile and it unfolds in stages like a Japanese folding silk fan.     "Four is a good age," I say wishing I would had said something more meaningful like: Four is a time of great discovery.  It was at the age of four that I first discovered my penis.  Of course my mother referred to it as Dinky (for twelve years) and because she called it Dinky for so many years it ceased to grow and was, dinky. "I love this beach," she says then using her delicate female foot to splash water at me. "Me too," I say then kicking water back at her.  We have to do shit like splash water or walk on the beach barefoot so that later on we can feel comfortable sixty-nining one another. My good to look at date is saying something to her kid then kissing him.  When she lowers him to the ground he runs thirty or forty feet ahead of us. "He's a good-looking boy," I say.  He ain't a good-looking boy.  His head is gigantic and because it is so big the kid often falls over.  I can only imagine how big the head of the father is and I'm concerned that beachgoers may assume that he's my child and anyone knows if you make babies with giant heads your sperm probably ain't right which means they'll just figure I'm f-cked up.     "Do you like kids?" says the woman.  "I love kids," I say.  "I've got two more," she says then smiling a slow guarded gradual smile that unfolds in jerky stages like a Japanese folding silk fan.        "Two more kids?" I say. "Uh-huh," she says then splashing water at me using her big female foot. "Kids are the best part of life," I say.  I'm wondering if they all have big heads.   "That's sweet," she says then jumping on my back. "Giddyap horsey," she says. Later that night we drank beer at Sheppard's on Clearwater Beach then strolled Pier 60 where they sell candles and plants and jewelry. PREVIOUS   HOME   NEXT