Around the Apex
Gordon was talking to Brian the virgin. “I think sex is a good way to measure how well you’re connecting with reality,” said Gordon, who had recently been relieved of his virginity by Angelina, the woman Brian was in love with.
“Yes, yes, I think you are right.”
But when Gordon declared his undying love for Angelina, she told him exactly where to go. She laughed about it with Donald, as they lay together in bed. “Yeah, I slept with him, but God was he bad. He was hairy, he had a small dick and I didn’t come once. I was drunk, I wanted a good lay.”
The truth was that the better Gordon thought he was connecting with reality, the worse he was, in fact, doing. For instance, when Daniella asked him, “How are you doing?” and he replied, “I am connecting very well with reality today,” this made Daniella believe that he wasn’t at all. In fact, it made her think he was either a very confused little kid or a pretentious wanker who wasn’t much of a philosopher at all.
“Did you fuck Gordon?” Dominick asked Angelina.
“Yes,” she smiled.
“He says you came at the same time. Did you?”
She laughed. “That’s what they all think, honey.”
But in his ignorance, Gordon had been repeating this story to many people.
One day, Angelina had too much to drink in a bar with all her friends. Dominick had bought her most of the drinks because he thought she might go to bed with him. He did not realize that she had fallen in love with Brian. He went to the washroom and she gave Brian her last tequila and the seat next to her. They decided to leave. Brian carried her to the main street where she passed out in his arms. Donald and Gordon split a cab with the two as they were going in the same direction.
“Don’t worry, boys, I can take care of this,” said Brian, but he couldn’t find her keys or get her up the stairs. Donald helped her up and Gordon held the doors.
“Be a gentleman,” Donald said to Brian as he left, but Gordon would not leave.
“Please go, Gordon, you were not invited,” said Brian, worried about Angelina.
“Fuck you!” yelled Gordon, and he would not leave.
“Get out! No one told you you could stay here!”
“Fuck you!” He gave Brian a death stare. “If you kick me out I’ll never speak to you again in my entire life!”
“Fine! Just go!” But still he would not budge. Angelina was passed out on the bed mumbling to herself. “Fuck you, then. You’re a completely degenerate asshole.” He lay down on the bed with his unconscious love who spoke to him in delirious Swedish, which he did not understand. Gordon settled on the couch.
As Brian slipped into the bed, Angelina reached for him, cuddled up close and locked her legs in his. He tried to comfort her. He rocked her gently and sang all the lullabies he could think of. He hoped Gordon was not laughing.
In the morning, he kissed Angelina goodbye as he left for work, and in her delirium she kissed him back
gently, serenely,
with
love?
Was it a loving kiss?
All day, as Brian loaded and unloaded boxes at the toilet paper factory where he worked, he daydreamed about Angelina and the wonderful kiss and the wonderful night he had spent in her arms, with their legs interlocked. He wondered if he was, indeed, connecting with reality or if he was crazy to think she loved him.
But back at her house, Angelina, who awoke from strange, erotic dreams with a massive hangover looked at the man on her couch and wondered what had happened the night before. Before he knew quite what was happening, Gordon found himself invited into bed and told, very clearly, where to go.
Matt Jones is a Montreal-based playwright and story writer. His plays have been performed in Montreal, Toronto and New York City. He’s interested in the politics of sex, sex in a sexist society and the sexuality of politics. To read more visit: http://pimentrouge.googlepages.com.
