Virgin Dream
My recreation of Klimt's "Virgin"
Yesterday I drove north to visit my old Korean guru and ex-lover.
It was my last ditch effort to run away from home before my family stopped noticing.
I parked my car out of the way alongside a fence, where all the other junkyard cars were stationed.
I strolled up to Rogin who looked at me quizically then brightened and said,
"oh, shit."
Because they weren't expecting me, his best friend Johnny looked at me scornfully--
we were always in competition of Rogin's attentions.
"hullo crazy lady," he bowed.
But I loved Johnny. He'd been my secret desire since I met him at a speech and debate tournament in High School, looking both like he'd neither wanted to be there
or belonged. But Johnny won that tournament. He always won.
The two were sitting on an old air conditioner shading themselves from the sun and smoking cigars. (Since when was MJ replaced by cigars?)
Young girls circled around them like gnats.
A few of them recognized me and filled me in on what was going on.
There was to be a fashion show later than evening and I should be in it.
I don't have anything to wear, I said.
No matter, they responded. It was a fashion show of whatever you wore as underwear, impromptu style.
Everyone was in such a hurry to get dressed (or undressed) and we had to leave to go to an out of the way warehouse, which served as a refreshment stand and dressing room for the show.
I drove up there without shoes on because it was hot, so I had to walk around without any shoes and the little stones and blades of grass were cutting the bottoms of my feet.
I ended up wearing someone else's underwear because mine weren't good enough so I ended up wearing a red tank-top (no bra) and red underwear tied with strings at each side.
I felt ridiculous onstage, but the girls adored it, and I adored the attention.
Afterward, everyone was drinking and I wanted to go home before the dawn of this day. I have a shrink appointment today at 6pm and didn't want to bail on my doctor yet again.
So I kissed Rogin goodbye, and told him to tell everyone else goodbye for me. I just wanted to disappear as stealthily as I'd arrived.
He looked at me like he was sorry to see me go, but couldn't do anything about leaving the place to walk me back to my car.
But then he looked down at my bare feet and felt sorry for me
and I guess he remembered all the times for the seven years that we'd been together that he'd cared for me, and then he walked me to my car.
Suprisingly Johnny came along.
When I got to my car, I hardly recognized it. I looked at it in sheer disbelief. I only recognized it because of the new registration sticker I put on it the day before.
The hood was caved in and the front bumper was barely hanging on, like someone had sat on it, or pounded it flat in the front like a pancake.
(My parents would love this one).
So I made sure the hood wouldn't fly up while I was driving home to L.A. by tying rope around it.
I got home at 6am this morning and my dad had already left for work
I had a panic attack in my bed.
I had to take a few zanax to calm me down. I knocked on my parent's bedroom door and
told my mom I felt like dying.
My mom got up out of bed and really looked at me as if for the first time in years and took my pulse.
"oh my God," she said.
That's right. She still didn't know about my car.
So I've been half awake, half dazed, partly conscious, but absolutely alive for the first time in years...