Throughout the night David the super of Berkeley Place played Got to Give It Up (Part 1) by Marvin Gaye over and over again very loud. James rolled into the apartment at 8 and pounded on Hazel’s wall and the ceiling above his room.
“Shut that shit off.”
He put on a tape of the World Saxophone Quartet – Point of No Return. I preferred Marvin to Hamiet Bluiett, Julius Hemphill, Oliver Lake and David Murray, but wasn’t anything better to fuck with the neighbors, especially David, who turned off his stereo.
Around noon I spoke with Ro to arrange an afternoon rendezvous. She promised chaos. We met at the Riviera Cafe in the West Village. I ordered a vodka-tonic. She had water.
“I’m leaving for Paris to study painting at Beaux Arts.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
“Then I’ll have to get a passport.”
“You’re coming to Paris?”
“Why not? Flights are cheap. Don’t worry I won’t bother you there.”
She looked at me as if she wasn’t so sure about that, but Libby was in Paris. She couldn’t be that hard to find.”
This evening I had tried to seduce Libby’s friend Karen at the Rainbow Room. We danced in a very erotic way. my though between hers. We were both turned on, but she finally shoved me away, saying, “I can’t. I have a boyfriend. I’d feel miserable if I did anything with you.”
“I understand. I’m very used to being alone.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to, but my roommate is at home, otherwise I couldn’t trust myself.”
“There’s always the bathroom here.”
She shut her eyes and said, “Okay, it’s not like I’m going to be with my boyfriend forever.”
