Pro:
Last night The Nearly Fiance gave a reading with a handful of other writers, at a gallery where I gave a reading two months ago. So, after last night’s show, as people are standing about swilling wine out of plastic cups, A Man comes up to me. Fiftyish, short, wide, balding, wearing a tan jacket.
“Did you read a piece called “Small”? the Man asks, pointing at me.
It takes me a bit to realize that he is talking about the essay from my reading two months ago, an essay that was called “Tiny.”
“Yes,” I say.
The Man, visibly excited, says,
“I thought it was wonderful. I still remember it!”
I wanted to sloppily kiss his shiny head and murmur sweet, sweet things to him, but I just said “Thank you.”
Con:
Late last night, I returned home to find that Willie, our cat who is heat (and apparently thinks that the sharp odor of her urine will cause passing male cats to be seized with a sudden urge to make wild passionate love to her) had PEED ON THE BED. And, of course, she had not peed on The Nearly Fiance’s side (she and The Nearly Fiance have an unnaturally close relationship) but rather on mine. We removed the sheet and covered the mattress with an old blanket. And I slept in URINE, breathing in great gusts of the sweet tang of cat pee.
