11.19.03 - This Morning's Dream or, Why I Was Late for Work

I lived in a small Ann Arbor-like town, full of mulberry bushes and swing sets. I went to the local college and developed huge crushes on gorgeous unavailable men who were invariably gay and studied in the German or Art History departments. I shared an apartment with a strawberry blonde plump girl named Julia, who looked like she stepped right out of a 1950s primer on appropriate female comportment. Ice wouldn't melt in her mouth, not a hair was out of place and her ponytail never swung.

Two Japanese schoolgirls lived across the hall from us in our big Victorian house. They were fascinated by the States and hung out with us to talk about boys and dating and show us pictures of the cute boys they'd stalked on campus. Julia never really participated, just smiled quietly and never dished. Being boy-crazy, I thought she was strange.

We were walking down the street one afternoon and the weather turned dark. The two Japanese schoolgirls excitedly murmured to each other and thought it was the perfect time to visit the beach. Julia and I didn't think that was a hot idea--big waves, lightning, drowning. But this appealed to their Japanese sense of adventure--this is what America was about: gigantic weather patterns.

They ran off in the direction of the beach as the wind began to kick up and Julia and I headed home, passing Rupert Everett along the way. He wore dark pants and a charcoal turtleneck, a dark cap covered his hair, but those sloe eyes and that jaw...who could forget a face like that? So I forced Julia to hang around and watched him laugh and sign autographs. Daringly I walked up and asked him to join us for a drink and some company. Julia was silent.

So the weather grew worse; we passed the beach and saw the two Japanese schoolgirls kneeling in the surf, praying as waves pounded all around them. The wind and waves lifted them high into the air, plunged them back into the sea, but it's like there was a bubble around them; they bounced harmlessly from crest to crest. Then, the sea parted a little ways around them, and the storm raged just a few feet off from where they knelt. Then, it was all over.

Squealing, they jumped up, clapped their hands and danced in a circle, yelling 'we saved the town, we saved the town!' Silly girls. Rupert, Julia and I walked on, strolling past the now wet and glistening houses. We came across the two dominatrices who lived a couple of blocks away from our house; in their customary black leather, they swung from harnesses and trapezes on the roof. The dark haired one, Emma, folded her topless self into a circle and swung around horzontal bar, the pink tips of her breasts winking at us. The blonde one cheerfully waved at us and Rupert said, 'hm, impressive.'

Something changed in our little threesome by the time we reached my house. Rupert was wearing a simple white buttoned down shirt and gray slacks. His hair was shorter and he wore glasses. Julia was brighter and actually bounced up the stairs, her ponytail swinging. When we reached our door, she turned and said, 'There's something we have to tell you. Rupert wants me, not you; we're sorry. We never meant for this to happen. He's moving in.' Instantly, I burst into tears: when did she become such a bitch? how could she do this to me? she didn't even like men! They smiled sadly at me, holding hands, and Rupert kissed her cheek and said, 'For her, I'm willing to be straight. And to wait. You...you were just a little fast for me. You'll find someone.' He sounded doubtful.

Their coupled happiness was too much for me; I stormed around the apartment, packing my things while Julia bleated her protests and I was so infuriated (though I'm vaguely aware that I shouldn't have been) I pushed past her and stomped out. I walked the two blocks to the dominatrix house; Emma still spun on her bar and the blonde one just swung back and forth. 'They kicked you out, huh?' she said. 'We knew it. She was just too goody goody. Live with us.'

'I can't swing. I don't go topless.'

'Eh, who cares? We got room.'

And that's where I live--with the topless, circus dominatrices and I heap scorn on Julia and Rupert whenever they pass.