“I almost lost a nail!” Lil said.
“Don’t talk to me about one finger,” the other woman said. “I caught three of them in a car door once. Nikki slammed it and it shut all the way!”
“You could see stars,” Lil said.
“Three fingers and the door was completely shut,” the woman repeated. “And they swelled up terribly and changed color from blue to purple to yellow.”
“Sure they did,” Lil assured her.
“Anyone else would have fainted. Nikki, for instance. She saw what she’d done and suddenly all the color drained out of her face. She was standing there—”
“I love that raincoat,” Lil said, changing the subject.
“I live in this raincoat,” the other woman said.
“I live in mine too,” Lil said. “Now can you help me put it on, because with this damaged finger, I’m useless.”
November 23, 1988
Chicago
I have been a bad employee lately. I went to Betty’s with a drug hangover and fell asleep on her floor. I had a terrible headache and woke up several hours later with a carpet burn on my face.
1989
January 5, 1989
Chicago
I weighed myself this morning and tip the scales at 146 pounds. Last April I went on a diet and weighed only 141. Now look at me! At the IHOP tonight, I sat facing the rotisserie on which three chickens turned and dripped juices. Tonight I’ll just have a steak and some spinach, then tomorrow I’ll have less.
January 9, 1989
Raleigh
Last night I wondered if other teachers get stoned at night. Can I be the only one? Classes start next week and I am not at all prepared.
January 15, 1989
Raleigh
I will never again drink at a party I am hosting.
I will never again drink at a party I am hosting.
I will never again drink at a party I am hosting.
I drank at a party I was hosting. After four beers, I had three screwdrivers, then I started taking bong hits. It was around then that things started spinning. I ate an apple yesterday, and a tiny sandwich. There were fifty people here. I tried to sit down and watch my guests dance, but the sight of them made me nauseated so I stumbled into my office and collapsed.
On the other side of the door I could hear John Smith, who talked about playing Pictionary with a dull partner who didn’t know who Henry James was. I listened and tried to get up. Then I decided it was better to just quietly slip away.
January 17, 1989
Chicago
Today was the first day of the new semester, and I’m teaching two classes. There are twenty students in the first one. I asked everyone to list the last three books they’d read (answers included Jonathan Livingston Seagull and a Danielle Steel novel) and then I asked what they’d do were someone to give them each $500. One person said he’d get more tattoos; many wanted sound systems; and three wanted plane tickets to warm places.
Because there are so many students, it’s easy getting them to talk. One person ate in class, and another said “Shit” way too many times. Before they left, I had them each write a few paragraphs explaining to me how they’d lost their feet.
Something has changed, and now, when I look at my students, I see only people who are going to eat up my time.
Meanwhile, my diet is working. I went down a belt notch and was comfortable.
January 19, 1989
Chicago
This is the last day of Ronald Reagan’s presidency, and on All Things Considered they asked a variety of people how he had affected their lives. The person I most identified with said that after the past eight years, she will never trust a Republican again. There were many people who cheered him, and a few who hated him in a personal way. One woman blamed Reagan for her parents’ divorce. She was from a farm family and said that the stress brought on by the president’s agricultural policies ruined the marriage, which under previous administrations had been happy.
A Brooklyn man blamed Reagan for his AIDS, speaking almost as if he’d caught it from him. I hated Reagan but stopped dwelling on it after he became such an easy and popular target. My eyes never welled up when he spoke. They narrowed.
January 24, 1989
Chicago
Names from the phone book:
Adonis Labinski
Dolly Branch
B. J. Beefus
Eugene Bratman
Wolfgang Fey
Freeman Fry
January 27, 1989
Chicago
I was in the coffee shop of the Palmer House, seated at the counter, and reached for my glasses. The guy next to me had set his glasses down as well, and when, by mistake, I picked them up, he let out a little cry and accused me of trying to steal them. The man was in his seventies and though his glasses had plastic frames like mine and were a similar shade of brown, his were aviators. Mine was an honest mistake. I apologized, but still he called the waitress over, saying, “This guy was trying to steal from me.”
The waitress talked to him the way you might to a child. “Oh,” she said, “I’m sure he wouldn’t do a thing like that.”
The man, frustrated that nobody recognized the kind of person I really was, lifted his coffee cup and held it close to his chest, as if I might try to swipe that too.
Just then a woman took a seat and the man turned to her and said, “Watch out. This one here just tried to steal my glasses.” I glanced over to give her my this-person-is-crazy look, but she was too busy locking her purse firmly between her legs.
January 30, 1989
Chicago
I saw an ad in Time magazine for a CD of the biggest country hits of 1961. Songs include:
“Under the Influence of Love”
“I Dreamed of a Hillbilly Heaven”
“Po’ Folks”
“Beggar to a King”
“Three Hearts in a Tangle”
Each of these would be a great story title.
February 2, 1989
Chicago
Because Stephanie quit, Mary was back at the IHOP tonight. She worked there for nine years and left three weeks ago to manage a hotel restaurant in Evanston. She told me that she loves it but misses throwing people out and calling the police. That was always her thing. I remember nights when one out of every four people who walked through the door would get the bum’s rush. Someone would mutter something under his breath, and she would snatch the menu out of his hand and point to the door, shouting, “I heard that—out!” Not just crazy people and drunks but men and women who never imagined themselves being thrown out of a restaurant.
Tonight the man I think of as the Old Jew paid his bill and asked Mary if she was back working nights.
She said yes, but just for two weeks.
“Well, if you’re free sometime, I’d like to take you out,” he said.
Mary put her hands on her hips. “Are you kidding? The only place I want you to go is hell. Understand? You can go straight to hell.”
The Old Jew looked down at the gum displayed in the case before him and said, “Oh, well. I guess it’s just that way with some people.”