Sometimes I will just start to cry. I remember this Red Coffee mug that my daughter got me for my birthday and I see it sitting across the desk at my office. The handle broke off last summer when she was asleep one morning so I snuck it out to my office so she wouldn’t see it. It is from some hipster coffee place called, “Grumpy Coffee,” no doubt I’ll take some young thing there one day soon by coincidence. As I start crying upon entry, she’ll say something like “…Oh my…you’re so sensitive…that’s so HOT!”

I remember going all the way up Nassau in Greenpoint to some factory warehouse to pick up her super cute pencil case that she ordered herself for her birthday. I cried as soon as I saw the damned thing. When I took a photo and texted it to her, she wanted to know if the people at the store were nice. I miss the kid now that she is off to college but of course, that major change is what facilitated most of what takes place in this damned book. However, this story happened while she was still a senior:

This on line magazine that I had been working with (how I met Samantha) held a one year anniversary party at a very posh East Village bar on Second Avenue so this must have been October, 2011. At this point, I was still quite nearsighted and had just started to drink again so I had a very low tolerance. And of course, this was an open bar event so I got started pretty quickly. I was looking forward to seeing Sam, I had heard her she would be coming but as it turned out, I did not get to see her that night.

The bar had these pseudo private rooms in the back, you stepped up onto a raised platform and could close the curtain. I parked in one with Helen Shapiro, one of the Board members on the magazine she had attended my school when Sam was there and she had quite a sexy persona despite her innocent look. She introduced me to a very good looking young man, her age, who was so obviously an ‘effected’ fag. We sat next to each other and managed to flirt a wee bit, then Hannah another friend joined us.

The conversation soon descended to a discussion of porn though as I recall it had started around the New York Post where the young man had been an art director. He explained that watching dogs shit really got him off. Helen explained that she was a feminist and while she dominated men in real life her fantasies often involved the traditional bondage stuff. I took the cue and stood up and looked at her as though I was simply going to seduce her at the table and she started to appear to be getting real wet.

Objectively, our little booth was heating up but I was not feeling anything, just really teasing, getting drunk and nervously wondering if and when I might see Sam. Even a thirty second visit and a quick kiss would be enough to make my night. Several women came and went and I was still gagging with Helen and the fag and did not notice the latest entrant. I suppose that Helen introduced me to her but I did not get her name and I did not really notice her one way or the other at the time. Then she said:

“I know you!’’ and I was like, “uhh…???” “No, I know you…you are that dancer right?” “well…”

“You are the greatest dancer I have ever seen!” Dear reader, you have to understand that only now after the Rosenthal affair I am able to objectively look back on this event and see the premonitions!

“Really…thanks…but…” “I was with my comedy class and we saw your performance at the college!”

Well, I took a look across the table and there was a really cherubic face. Lovely, red cheeks, innocent at the first glance, straight brown hair and a smile that pushed those cheekbones upward to the point of pain. The wooden tables were high and I really was not aware of her body or her scale. Obviously, I was a junkie for the adoration and that was all that mattered. We started talking rapidly and pretty quickly, Hannah and Helena and all the others left the booth so that soon we were alone and still chatting.

I slid over so that I was on the same side as her and then without thinking about it as I would now and without any hesitation, I put my hand on her thigh. I suddenly felt really hot and I was completely attracted to her. This was the first time I was this close to a woman in years other than Sam. We stopped talked and started staring into each other’s eyes. What followed almost sounds like it is in fact straight out of High School though this may have come after another conversation that I will describe:

“What are you thinking right now?” she asked. “I am thinking that I would really like to kiss you!’’

“Well, so why don’t you then?” I lunged at her and put my tongue in her mouth and we made out for a half a minute maybe less. I was only beginning to begin to feel again. I was more just freaked out!

“That was nice…” she said. “Why don’t you try it again…but this time, don’t stick your tongue out!”

What a fine reply. To tell me it was good…so I moved back at her, slowly, only using the lips.

“See how much better that felt…you have to leave something to the imagination…don’t just jump in!”

She was most certainly right. I put my arm around her and felt myself pulse. She was certainly not my type but she seemed to like me and the night was still relatively young. Then came the second part:

“God, I would really love to smoke some weed right now!” “I have some weed…” I replied.

“You do?” “Yes…but you know, we can’t smoke here.” “Well…” she smiled and those fine bones caught fire again, “your place or mine?” “Well…” jeez, this was a first. I visualized my then pied a terre in Queens with just the one futon and absolutely nothing else. “I live in (like) Queens!” “Umm…I live in Brooklyn,” she said. “Let’s go to my place! And let me make it clear…we can fool around and stuff!!”   Well, I was certainly glad she got that out of the way. I went on with various disclaimers like we don’t have to fuck as long as we can just fool around and she gave me a big kiss at that point then I said:

“Well, I have just one question…” “Yeah…what’s that?” “Well…I am a wee bit older than you so…”

“I know…I thought about that…I have been thinking about older men for awhile…I have a limit so…how old are you anyway?” I told her and she laughed. “That’s fine, as long as you are not sixty five okay?!” She grabbed one more vodka – it was just after eleven since she had to pay for that one.

Nothing like this had happened to me in years. I had been boxed in the suburbs pretending to portray a proper husband and being a really good Papa to that daughter who bought me the Red Cup. I was very excited like a little kid visiting Coney Island. It seemed like the first time at the start of every summer.

Soon we were in a taxi and she was giving the guy directions. We started to talk about all the people we knew like Helen and Aaron, the publisher of the magazine and of course, Sam came up. She told me that she really did not know Sam and that when she had met her, she found her to be quite snobby. I agreed that Sam could come off quite snobby but I told her outright that I was completely heads over heels about Sam ‘as a friend’ and that she was never snobby with me. She gave me another kiss.

We crossed the Manhattan Bridge and soon pulled up in what seemed like familiar territory, just past the Brooklyn Academy of Music, I suppose you can call it Fort Greene. We staggered past a doorman and she warned me to keep quiet since her roommate might be asleep. I thought of my ex wife and my daughter asleep in the suburbs not wondering where Papa was. We tiptoed into her room and she turned the light on. There on the wall, was a beautiful black Stratocaster. God was being very kind.

She went into the bathroom and I sat on her bed and started to cry. I cried for joy. If nothing else, this had already happened. I had gone home with someone. It had been years!!! At that moment, I really believed this was simply the start of a whole new life. I had no idea that this was actually an exception to the rule that was about to follow. I also had no idea what her name was. I probably had heard it once but I was a bit drunk and music was playing. She came out of the bathroom and I looked at her.

She was so so lovely. She had this wide hip bone, it was the single largest part of her body. I got my hands all over it, it was simply splendid. We started to make out on her bed and we started to tongue. She certainly was ready to seriously fool around. She had great energy and she had this lovely face these fair eyes she was so different from all these women I had known and she was so funny and so playful and she played the guitar, too. She started to laugh and then we kissed some more…just swell!

Then she asked about the weed. So I rolled one up and just before lighting it, I warned it that it was very strong stuff. She took a puff and coughed and I did the same. This went on for a few minutes. Then I put it out and she smiled again. “My god…I am so high!” Ideal conditions for serious sex, I thought. But it only took a few minutes more for the situation to just set in. “My god…I am so tired…shit, I am really sorry Howie…I am just going to pass out…I really feel bad…but I had too much to drink…oh, God!”

She hit the pillow and passed out. I lay down and cuddled next to her. I thought I have never been this happy in my life. I saw our college’s alumni magazine and pulled it over to get her name: Sarah Leigh. I guess that was not a name I was used to. And Leigh was not a middle name, it was Sarah Leigh like Betty Lou or Mary Ann. I started to cry again. She was in a deep sleep and she had this deep smile, her bones all cheeked up like a doll like an angel and I was just so happy to be laying down next to her

Sheer motherfucking BLISS!!!

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