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I can't remember whose idea it was: mine or Maria's, but I do remember how it started. Paul was over and we were talking about the rock scene in Seattle, where his brother lives and plays guitar. "Yeah," said Paul, "remember how you said you liked 'Hunger Strike'?" Well that's only like the third best song on the cd. The others are really hard. You like Soundgarden?" I nodded. "Well, you know, all those people used to be in bands with this guy Andy Woods." "The one who died?" "Yeah, od'd. Well, my brother knew him pretty well and he said that Andy was the best out of them all. A born entertainer--" "Just like Fanny Brice." "Only with a smaller nose, but yeah. And he says Pearljam are pretty much these spoiled rich kids who decided to make a band. They were all in other bands before out there. Mudhoney, Mother Love Bone, Green River." "Green River. Hey, I heard that Nirv--" "Yeah, Nirvana copped their style from Green River. And my brother says Andy Woods had this girlfriend, they all called her Stargazer. She's got a real 'Stargazer' name, too. I think it's something like Xana la Fuente. "Hee." "My brother says she was really pushing Andy to be a star, kept him in a closet. Finally, he got addicted to heroin and od'd. It's weird, with Nirvana making it so big--they're like the worst outta them all." "I like Pearljam." "Yeah yeah yeah whatever whatever." "Hey, next time you're over, bring the Temple of the Dog cd. And the Soundgarden one." "Okay. I think the better songs than 'Hunger Strike' are 'Times of Trouble', and 'Call me a Dog'." "Yeah, then call me a cab." One of the singers, can't remember if it was Chris Cornell or Eddie Vetter, is from San Diego..." Maria was spreading some neufchatel cheese onto a wheat thin. "Ri-ich." She was doing the whining thing again. She sat down and started rubbing a foot along my right calf. "What's with her," said Paul. "She's jonesing." "Jonesing?" said Paul. "You know. Like 'Basketball Jones'" I held my hand next to my mouth and said (sotto voice) "for cunt" Jonesing. "Heh. Poor baby." "It's. Not. Funny." she said, pouty. "No, you're right. It's not. In fa--" Maria said, "What's Pam up to these days, Paul..." "Hey you," shot back Paul, "you know we don't go for any funny business." Paul called anything 'leather' or 'same-sex' 'funny business'. "Yeah yeah yeah, whatever whatever." "Hey Rich," said Maria, "do you still see that Beth person you met at Border's?" "Time to time, but we don't run in the same circles you know. I see her downtown every now and again. You interested? I'm sure I could--" "Wait, but here's the thing..." So about a week later we were outside Border's bookstore(17th & Walnut here in Philly). Maria pulled on my arm and said, "Rich, I don't know if I can do this. I'm all nervy." "Nervy." "Got any pot?" "No, but you do." "Huh?" "I dropped a joint into your bag before we left." "You." We walked around the corner and found an underground parking lot and smoked the joint. "Much better." "Ready?" She nodded. And then we were upstairs, Maria wearing a flowery skirt and a tie-dyed t-shirt and tiny handcuff earrings. I was in jeans and a jean-jacket. I also had this teal handkerchief stuffed halfway into a pocket. I wasn't *with* Maria, just watching, leafing through an oversized, rather conspicuous book of Mapplethorpe photos over by the espresso bar. Maria was in the gay/lesbian/s&m section, sitting on a bench, riffling through a copy of "Doc and Fluff". Every other minute or so she would stretch her t-shirt down tight and smooth it under her. After maybe twenty minutes or so, over walked these two women towards Maria. She told me later that this is what was said: "Well, hey there, sweet thing. That's a dirty book, you know." "I'll live. It's too late for me, anyhow." "Too late?" "To be corrupted." "Thought that's what you meant. Hi. I'm Beth. This is Tina." "Maria. Hi." "Nice shirt." She reached down and brushed the back of her hand against Maria's right nipple. Maria gasped, lowered her eyes. "That just from reading?" "I'm very sensitive to words. More than anything else, I guess. Those Vuarnets? Nice." "Yup." She talk?" asked Maria, about Tina, who was wearing a slim leather collar with a single d-ring around it. Perversely demure. "She does," said Beth. "Today's not a day for talking. Wow, what gorgeous hands. Check these out, Tina." "Thanks. But ugh." "Ugh?" "I'm a musician. I would kill for longer fingers." "Hey, are you stoned?" Teen Steam
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