Beth walked through my apartment, scanning the disarray. She opened the refrigerator. “You have no food in here. Let’s go get a hot dog.”
“There’s salsa, plus I’m a vegetarian. Actually, I’m a pescetarian, but that’s just semantics.” Then I smiled really wide. “You know what? Fuck it! Let’s go get a hot dog.”
We went to an old hot dog joint called the Dogfather. It looked like something out of an episode of The Sopranos. The room was dark with red leather booths. They served every kind of hot dog imaginable. You ordered at the counter, where they had about a hundred different toppings and thirty different kinds of beer. I chose the foot-long spiced dog called Sal’s Hit. Beth got the kielbasa named the Kill Mob Bossa. We slipped into a booth and ate in silence for a few minutes. After the initial disgust I felt over chomping into meat encased in pig intestines, I decided it was the best goddamned food I’d ever had.
I washed Sal’s Hit down with three twenty-four-ounce Belgian beers, none of which I could name. I was thoroughly drunk. Beth talked me into hitting up a gay bar with her that Friday night, and staying true to my motto of the day, I told her, “What the hell, why not? So you’re outta the closet, I take it?”
“I was never in the closet. I just don’t do relationships. I’ve kept my life simple.”
“I totally get that,” I deadpanned.
“I’m worried about you, Kate.” I had never seen Beth that serious.
“What are you talking about?”
“I just think you spend a lot of time alone.”
“That’s not by choice, Beth. And anyway, you do, too. You just said you don’t do relationships.”
“But I go out and have fun and cut loose. You used to, remember? We used to do karaoke? You laughed more then.”
“Everyone keeps telling me I’m lost and my spark is gone and I’m crazy, but every time I take a chance, every time I go out on a limb, I fall. I slept with a guy I didn’t even know. I mean I really slept with him, Beth.” I opened my eyes wide for emphasis.
“You mean, fell for him?”
“Yes, that’s what I mean. I’m always the one to fall.”
She looked very thoughtful for several moments. “At least you get to enjoy the view, even if it’s brief. I don’t think taking chances is such a bad thing. Maybe you’re stronger now. I just don’t want you to give up.”
“This, coming from the girl who doesn’t do relationships.”
She bit her bottom lip and nodded. “I might change that and check out the view sometime.”
Beth walked me to the door of my apartment. I took one step in and then my body reminded me that I hadn’t eaten red meat in ten years. My stomach rumbled and turned violently. I honestly didn’t know which end it was going to come out of, and then to my absolute horror I realized it was both. Sitting on the toilet, I managed to puke into the sink. And even though there was about three inches between my mouth and the edge of the porcelain, I was able to projectile vomit perfectly into the basin.
Beth stayed with me for part of the night, bringing me clean washcloths and water. My body thoroughly rid itself of Sal’s Hit. I swore off meat for another ten years and then told Beth she was free to go. She left but came back ten minutes later with Popsicles, Seven Up, and saltines.
“You’re a good friend,” I told her.
“I just want you in tip-top shape so I can take you to Lady Fingers on Friday.”
“Are you kidding me? That’s the name of the place?”
“You won’t be disappointed.” She smirked. I hiccupped and burped and wondered what I was getting myself into.
After she left, I slumped onto my bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking about Jamie. I thought about him whispering, “I’ll take care of you,” and then I cried myself to sleep.
Tuesday and Wednesday flew by. Dylan from 5B came over on Thursday. I didn’t smoke any pot, but I let him hotbox my apartment so I was even more completely stoned than I was the time before, except this time my eyebrows remained intact. We watched three episodes of Whose Line Is It Anyway? and laughed our asses off. Dylan was actually pretty cute. He was tall and skinny and pale with buzzed hair, but he had these really blue eyes. That night he helped me carry my laundry to the basement.
“Hey Kate, you wanna go to the skate park with me tomorrow night?”
“I can’t, I have a date with a lesbian.”
His eyes shot open. “Oh, cool.”
“It’s not what you think.”
He smiled and shrugged. “It’s your business. Aren’t you still dating that douche wad in 9A?”
“Stephen? No, he dumped me last week. He’s dating someone else already.”
“His loss.” He said it so quickly and nonchalantly that I almost believed him.