Up To My Swan-Like Neck In It

Every day, my many admirers call or write. Sometimes their message is plaintive: without me, they languish. They suffer! Oh, how they suffer but would suffer more if they had never known me. This week, they tell me the New York Dolls play in the City, though one wonders if anyone perused liner notes and recalls who used to be in that band. Next week, the Supersuckers and Reverend Horton Heat. Tomorrow, Tea Bag and Instant Death at the Court Tavern. A girl’s got only so much complexion to sacrifice on the altars of punk rock and seigobilly before she’s photographed for posterity as the Mother of the Bride. Mamie says, “Our generation refuses to grow up.”

My many admirers present me with gorgeous, effusive love notes. “Darling,” they read, “An important amendment to your account terms is enclosed. Discover the freedom to access extra cash! Use the enclosed checks today!”

My many admirers bring news from far and near: the older gentleman who knocked on my door and permitted me the simple pleasure of assisting him at a difficult moment was reported missing three weeks ago. I stand at my living room window in the late afternoon glow, surveying the lovely new leaves on the city’s trees, and as hope wanes I wish I knew where oh where he could be.

My many admirers advise that the family’s current cancer drama has reached an intermission between surgeries and radiation treatment. This is a welcome development indeed in a story not mine to tell, as temporarily, no blood relations ask to see my medical records. Alas, the answer is, “My dulcet darling, please bite me.” My admirers would know if I were ill simply because, given a brief period to live, I’d pick up cartons of menthols and a case of gin on the way to the tanning salon, where I’d refuse eye protection and nibble a second grilled hot dog.

My many admirers wish for my every happiness, of course, and praise me endlessly. They can’t help themselves. This morning, I taught a four-year-old to throw paper airplanes from a concealed location, guaranteeing her high school popularity with people who love food fights because you just can’t go wrong with the classics! My selflessness is so beautiful it almost hurts.

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