"I'm getting married," Alicia said.

"Really?"  I grabbed the ice water off the table and took a drink.  "That's a fucking horrible idea," I told her.  She let out a forced laugh and rolled her eyes.  "What's so funny?"  I asked.

"I figured you'd say something like that."   Alicia put both arms on the table and leaned towards me as if she were about to let me in on a little secrete.  "Actually, I figured that you'd walk off."

"I would have, if I hadn't already ordered a drink."   I leaned back into my chair, squirming a bit, trying to get some distance from her.  Maybe by shifting uncomfortably in my seat I could delay for a second or two.  I needed to figure out how I should properly conduct myself.

"Well?"  She said, insistent.  She looked angry, her face started to scrunch up.  Alicia never much carried for my sort quick retorts.

"Well what?"  I snapped.  I had no desire to make this easy for her.  "It's a stupid thing to do that's all."

"And why's that?"

"Well for one thing we've been fucking for the last six months."   I offered this, as what I saw would be the core of my argument.

"So what?"  She returned without the mildest look of being taken off guard.

"So. . . ."   I went for the water again in an effort to negotiate more time.  "Well I think it's going to make it very difficult for us to screw, that's all."   I shrugged.

"You're unbelievable."   Her face went from pale white to bright red like a traffic light missing the warning color.  "We're done.  Get it?"

"This is bullshit."   I turned feeling a new presence.  The waitresses put our drinks on the table, and asked if we were ready to order.  "Give us a few minuets."   I looked past Alicia's shoulder, out over the bay.  San Francisco could not be seen through the marine haze this afternoon.  It had been a mild December, not much rain, but today was cold.  "When did he ask you?"

"It doesn't matter."   She said quickly, almost dismissing the question.  I was at the disadvantage, she knew what our conversation would consist of and she had time to prepare or rather have the where-with-all to stonewall me.

"Yes it does.  When did he ask?"  I took a small sip of beer.  I really wanted to gulp it down, not so much as a result of the news but for the conversation to come.

"Two weeks ago."

"Two weeks ago, Tuesday?"

"That's right, why?"  She asked just realizing what I was getting to.

"We fucked that Tuesday."

"So what, and stop saying the 'F' word.  This is a nice restaurant."

"So you came to my place for a quickie the day he popped the question."   I raised a finger in the air, in kind of an Ah-ha!  Fashion.  "And then you hid your engagement from me for two weeks."   Interesting. . . .

"He asked two weeks ago, I didn't accept until yesterday."

"You don't love him."   I said, her eyes opened wide she let out another breathy laugh.  "You think you do, but you're really in love with me."

"Ha."   She let out.  "You're joking."

"I'm ready to order, how about you?"  I looked over towards the bar, caught the waitress's eye and waved here over.  "I heard the tuna tartar with truffle oil is a out of hand here."

"Do you love me?"  She asked.

"No, but that's why you're in love with me."   I turned to the waitress and ordered.  "I'll have the shrimp cocktail, actual size, not those little brine ones.  And a spinach salad."

"And for you ma'am?"  The waitress asked but Alicia did not reply right off.  She seemed a bit dazed.  I hoped what I said made her uncomfortable or at least confused, either way I'd be a little happy.

So how'd we meet?  We were both attending this gay surprise party, mutual friends (that's gay as in stupid).  The couple, Josh and Debbie, was this uber-love team.  They always put together these little events to put their union on display, frankly it made me sick.  But the beer was free and the food was decent.  The night droned on, Josh eventually made his speech, as he always does, going on and on about Debbie.  He talked like a poet in days of yore. . . .  "If it t'were not for you then I. . . ."   And he kept evoking the sun and the moon, along with poor similes and bad metaphors.

"Wretched A-hole."   I mumbled amidst his babbling and was immediately smacked, sucker-punched really.

"Shhh."   She hissed scornfully, I caught my first look at her angry red-face accompanied by a scrunched glare.  Scowling aside she was hot, no doubt about that, short-mod-hair-cut, frosted on the top, beautiful skin and were it not for her look of contempt I imagined a beautiful smile.

"Fuck off."   I told her flatly and started to walk away.  She was hot but I've seen beautiful women before and I imagined that I'd see them again.  After the speech finally ended she sought me out and called me a pig, I in-turn called her a cow.  We separated company and I didn't see her till much later that night.

"You're a heartless prick."   Alicia told me, slightly sluring her words.

"Is that the word on the streets?"  I replied.  She held onto the railing for support, we were out on the back fire escape.  I had stepped out to have a cigarette.  I was surprised to see her out here I pegged her as a militant none smoker.  Alicia didn't look to good at the moment she seemed a bit sick, too much booze I'd guess.

"Yeah."   She said grabbing the metal railing with both hands and then drew in a deep breath.

"You all right?"  I asked.  She turned to me and looked as if to say something, but her expression changed as if something had interrupted her and then she threw up.

"Okay."   I said, clapped my hands, and carefully moved around her as not to get anything on me.  She was on her knees when I got to the window, I looked back to her.  She was still heaving but not throwing up.  I paused for a moment and thought I should help her out, she looked so pathetic.  But honestly I've never really been that guy, the hair holder.  The guy who looks at a girl throwing up and thinks about comforting her, holding her hair so it doesn't get in her face or in the toilet.  These guys think its some kind of chivalrous deed, but I don't really buy that.  If anything a hair holders are dangerous, it's a sure sign of a man who will do anything to get laid.  Me, I'm not too eager to be around a woman while she pukes, maybe I'm superficial but the memory of her noises and the stuff flying out of her mouth would constantly pop into my head seconds before a kiss.  Plus there is the story of how you two met (and I do know couples with this story) 'He held my hair while I threw up everywhere . . . it was the sweetest thing.' No thanks, I'll pass on that one.  All my relationships may end up in the toilet but I'll make certain that they don't start there.

Moving on, we ran into each other a few weeks later at the MOMA.  She was there for the Ansel Adams Exhibit and I just popped in to use the bathroom.  Of course when she asked me what I was doing there I lied to her:  "I'm here to absorb the work.  To me Adams uses the lens to reveal a world of juxtaposition and contrast, it's very stark but at the same time uplifting."   Alicia focused in on me, winkled her brow and began to nod.  I continued to babble.  "His work in Yosemite is not only aesthetically pleasing it's emotionally penetrating.  Much more so then Robert Frank's early work or even Bret Weston's landscapes."   I faltered a bit, having trouble reading the names and short descriptions off of the "Upcoming Exhibits" poster in the window behind Alicia.

"Really, you think so?"

"Oh, absolutely."

"You're pretty much completely full of shit aren't you."   She said with a smile; one much more striking than I had imagined she would wear.

"Pretty much."   I admitted, really enjoying how she called me out.  "I just came in to use the john."   She laughed some more.  "My name's Ethan by the way."

"Alicia."   She said, swaying ever so slightly.  "Would you like to get some coffee?"

"And for you Ma'am."   The waitress asked.

"Oh, I'll just have some coffee."   Alicia finally answered.  "I don't see much reason in hanging around."

"Don't be so dramatic," I turned to the waitress.  "She'll have the Hearts of Palm salad, and bring her another wine, but none of this California shit."   I snapped.  "Bring her something from Coudrieu early '90s."

"I'm sorry we don't serve that by the glass."   The waitress whispered.

"Bring her the whole bottle."   I responded, somehow able to restrain myself from saying 'we're going to need it'.

"I won't touch it."

"So it'll be a big garnish for the salad," I told Alicia and instructed the waitress to "just put it in front of her."   After our server left, I started to drink.  Alicia on the other hand played with her glass more than sipped from it.  I think she was afraid to get drunk, if she didn't have her facilities about her something could happen.  I took a moment to sit back and take her in.  I didn't feel angry or betrayed, she told me about her boyfriend up front, but I never thought she'd ever marry him.

"What are you thinking?"  Alicia asked reluctantly.

"Honestly?"

"I asked didn't I?"

"I was thinking about that night we went to the Top of the Mark."   She blushed and looked away from me and took a healthy sip from her California white.

Picture this, high atop Nob Hill in one of San Francisco's most luxurious hotels sits a couple.  They are at a small table, square in the middle of a marvelous picture window, crammed every inch with beautiful vistas of the city.  Although the glory of San Francisco is just a head turn away the couple does not notice.  They're eyes are fixed, locked in each other's gaze, drinking each other in, not saying a word.  Their hands connect and mingle playfully; at that moment they are the only people on Earth.  Like minded-kindred souls, they move towards each other and kiss.  A flock of birds erupts and flies off into the distant night.  Two tables down from this couple sat Alicia and myself.

"Why can't you come for the fucking weekend?"  I snapped.  We had been together for three months at this point, sneaking around, humping in cars and hotel rooms.  All in all it was a lot of fun.

"Because of Andy, I can't just up and leave for three days on a whim."   She felt bad about it, I could hear it in her voice, but I still persisted.

"I can't believe this," I griped.  "This is like the biggest deal in my life.  I made two shitty short films in college and now their going to be seen at the Denver film festival."

"I know and I'm so proud of you."   She reached over and grabbed my hand.

"You just don't get it, this is it for me.  I haven't been able to put anything together out here, I'm done with film and this will be all I have to show for it."

"So go.  Enjoy it."

"Alone?"  I asked, to which Alicia shook her head and deflated.  Sensing a weakness I lunged.  "I'm just really sick of this whole set up, the sneaking around, the lying and playing second fiddle to that twit."

"You were the one who was so gun-ho for this little arrangement."   She scolded.  "I believe you said 'I've always wanted to date a girl with a boyfriend, you get twice the sex for half the work.'"

"Well that's true and dating a girl you can't be seen with in public does cut down on many relationship pitfalls.  Not to mention it's very cost efficient."   I gave her a little smile and she didn't seem pleased.

"I don't know why I even bother with you," Alicia sighed in a sad reflective way.  "I'm just delaying the inevitable."

"What's that mean?"  I snapped.

"Nothing, don't worry about it."

"You know I really hate when people let slip little coded phrases."   I rambled angrily.  "Say what you fucking mean or shut the fuck up."

"I'm leaving."

"Good."   I pulled out my wallet and threw my cash on the table.  Alicia darted across the room.  As much as I hated her at that moment I couldn't help but notice that she looked great fleeing from me.  " I hope you get hit by a bus on your way home."   I screamed across the restaurant.  I turned away from her, crossed my arms, and nodded.

Seconds later I was out of my chair running after her.  I wanted to catch her in the elvator and prolong the anger and discomfort for at least another eighteen floors.  On the way down I stared at her but she ignored me all together.  Then there was a quick jolt, the lights went out and she flew across the elevator and rapt herself around me.  I don't know what scared her most, the dark, the suddenness of it all, maybe it was the fear we would both fall.  A voice came over the intercom explaining that Nob Hill had been hit by a rolling black out, the California solution to a power shortage.  There was no time given as to how long we would be stuck and I didn't care.  Alicia was holding me so tight it almost hurt, but in that good way.  I found myself amazed how much power she had stored in her little frame.  We didn't say anything to each other, she held me tight and I felt needed, and it felt really good to be needed.

The elevator started up shortly there after.  Apparently a place like The Mark had all sorts of back up generators and what not.  It was kind of a shame really; I wanted to be stuck in that elevator for hours, alone with Alicia, not worrying about getting caught by her boyfriend or being seen by a friend of a friend.  In a rare move she came back to my place that night.  I have a roommate that knows her boyfriend so we had to sneak in.  It turned out to be a great night and everything went really well for us, for a while after that.  I went to Denver alone, but was all right with it.  Alicia was seeing less of her boyfriend. . . .

"This is not your last chance."   She said sternly while forking her salad with authority.  "My mind has been made up and the decision is final."

"I just don't know what else to say, marring him is a mistake."   I told her.  My voice soft and regretful as I looked down, very disappointed by the bowl of miniscule shrimp sitting in front of me.  "A terrible mistake."   People just don't listen anymore, I said to myself.

"No it's not."   Alicia said gravely.  "The only mistake I made was getting involved with you."

"Well there it is than," I raised my voice and threw my hands into the air.  "You've got it all figured out, probably had it planed form the get-go.  Waitress, oxymoron aside, does this look like big shrimp to you?"  I called across the empty restaurant.  "Or even regular shrimp."   I muttered, no one was listing anyway.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?"  She asked, looking at me with concerned eyes.  "You always knew this would be a temporary situation, it's what you wanted."

"It's not what I wanted."   I choked out.  "Or maybe what I wanted has changed.  I don't know."

"What do you mean by that?"  Alicia stared me down.  "Seriously, there's no room for ambiguity here."   I tried looking away from her but she followed my eyes intently.  There was something about the way she looked at me, into me really, which made me feel uncomfortable.  It felt like people I didn't know were going through my private things and I had been made to watch.  "Be honest with me Ethan and for gods sake be explicit!"   She was leaning across the table now, locked onto me.  Her eyes widened and her look became intense.  This was it, this was why she wanted to meet with me, not to dump me but see if I would fight for her.

"I love you and I want to be with you."   I told her and she started to glow.  Her phone rang.

"Damn it!"   She exclaimed and asked me to hold on.  She has to take this call and she didn't want me to lose "that thought," as she put it.  She's with me on this one.  "Give me two minutes."   She whispered with her hand over the phone.

Now, Alicia leaves the table; I can tell its Andrew on the line.  She is short with him and tells him she is in the middle of something extremely important.  I feel great, I feel victorious, I am the guy who gets the girl.  I see Alicia on the other side of the empty restaurant; she smiles at me and is kind of swaying back and forth.  Just as she did the day I bumped into her at the MOMA. . . . I panic.

Without the eminent presence of rejection at hand Alicia becomes a lot less desirable.  Everything in the restaurant goes white and then a series of images flash before my eyes, I become clairvoyant.  I see the next twenty years of my life and they are horrifying.  The first image is an apartment in the city, we share it.  It's a studio crammed with spring colors, scented candles and more throw pillows then bed space.  Quickly a rented house in the East bay replaces that image; I will commute into the city, we will buy a couch.  This couch will become a sanctuary for even more pillows.  Next, I forget to pull out and knock her up.  I knew my aversion to rubbers would catch up with me.  Then we get married; we own a dog that breaks wind every time you pet him.  Further down the line I will be fired from my job that I hate but wish I still had since I am force to start over again.  I've already cheated on Alicia seven times and she's been seeing Andrew behind my back.  The images get worse and worse until I see myself many years from now.  I am living in Concord, we own, the kids hate me and so does their mother.  You can't sit down anywhere in our house without having to move a pillow first.  I wonder who will come to my funeral.

"I just told Andrew that I couldn't marry him."   Alicia says right before she sits down.  I am smiling nervously and have no idea what to do.  I can't go on like this, that's for sure.  A girl who just left a fiancée for you isn't going to be happy with a casual affair.  She's swinging for the fences on this one.  She wants your "A" game.

"That seems a bit sudden, doesn't it?"  I sputter out.

"What does it matter, you love me.  We're going to be together, that's what we really want, right?"  Her smile seems to falter.  She's not an idiot, she can tell I'm well into a good freak-out.

"You really play things fast and loose, has anyone ever pointed that out to you?"  I say grabbing the 140-dollar bottle of wine from Coudrieu.  I start gulping it like it was a bottle of gator-aid.  I wipe my brow as she looks on, sweat has trickled into my eye and it stings.  In the thick of my panic I stop all my fidgeting, struck by this usually remarkable and pleasant wine.  I stretch out my arm and examine the bottle.  A '93 very rare, "Jesus that's good."

"Hello, over here."   Alicia flags me out of my comfort zone.  "What are you getting at?  You just said you loved me and you wanted to be with me."

"I thought you were dumping me."   I shrug.

"I was dumping you."

"Well that's why I said it, so you wouldn't."

"And now I'm not, because you did."

"But now that you do. . . .  I really can't."

"I just broke it off with my fiancée!"   Alicia screamed.

"Well you better call him back, because I'm really the wrong horse to back."

"You are such a shit!"   Alicia slams her fist on the table and picked up her phone.  "Andrew, baby, it's me again.  Don't cry baby I didn't mean what I said."   Alicia moved across the restaurant pleading into her phone.  I took my wallet out and threw some cash on the table, barely enough to cover half the wine.  I took the bottle with me anyway.

Author Bio

If I were an animal I would be licking my privets. . . .