Two nights ago I was sitting in Frank’s with Aodren. The French ad producer and I were drinking Stellas and watching the Celtics. He asked if I had any girlfriends in New York.
“None.”
“None?” The twenty-five year-old knew of my reputation as a pussy hound from the ex-model of Paris.
“I’m faithful to my Thai wife.” I don’t know why, but I was able to walk from 47th Street to the East Village without being tempted by another woman.
“She is 9000 miles away. She used to work in a bar. How can you know if she is faithful to you?” Men his age are always on the prowl.
“That’s was a good question.”
“And do you have an answer?”
“Yes, I’m not jealous and my son is more than enough jealous for me.” Fenway won’t let any man near Mam. He’s a tough one-year old.
“But you have no one here?” Aodren’s girlfriend is a dancer at the Crazy Horse Saloon.
” My heart is true, unless you count the thousands of women on the porno tubes.”
“They don’t count.”
“I’m not sure.” I had asked Mam and she said they didn’t really exist.
“They are real.”
“No, I guess not.” I shrugged and ordered another beer. These non-entities have sex with me without any demand for commitment. I’m faithful to them, but no sense in telling that to Mam. I really don’t think she would understand even if she said she would. Real women are just too jealous.
And dangerous too.