Sunday reverie

You got up this morning to the beautiful melody of a Spanish ballad. The music made you feel good though you are not thoroughly refreshed. As usual, last night you stayed up late, reading and writing until the wee hours of the morning. When words arrive, you're at their beck and call. You've got to respond to their command.

You couldn't linger in bed because you got an appointment early in the morning. A potential client wanted to do business over breakfast after a racquetball game.

You staggered to the bathroom and stepped into the shower  stall. The warm-hot water revived and relaxed you. As you dried yourself, you looked closely at your face in the mirror. The once ravishingly handsome, Adonis face has begun to show signs of decay. Lines are appearing under the eyes; blotches of discoloration are here and there. Still, compared to most men your age, you still look good. Judy has commented several times that your lips are irresistibly sexy. You chuckled at the recollection. You dropped down to the floor, straining to do 50 push-ups. You used to be able to 100 without being of breath afterwards. You're indeed getting old.

The meeting didn't go as well as you had hoped. The bastard didn't take seriously your sale's pitch.

You drove back to the apartment and resumed sleeping fitfully with the radio on. Music drifted in and out of your consciousness, reminding you of the pains and vagaries of love.

Finally you got up and drove to Scottsdale. After four hours of playing poker and dozing on and off at the table, you were ahead with a lousy sum of $134. Then your landlord's son called and said he wanted to meet you for dinner as he had something to discuss with you. You replied why the matter had to be talked over dinner, and not over the phone. He insisted that you meet him since he valued your advice. You are 22 years his senior.

You arrived on time at the restaurant and Kenny was already there, looking anxious and worried. No sooner did you sit down that he dropped you a bomb that he was thinking of marrying his nymphomaniac girlfriend of his. You told him of the following:

"Kenny, your father told me to look after you. He is worried about you.  We are friends. We hang out together about town several times after hours.  I have met your girlfriend Tricia. You've told me incredible stories about her. I'm glad you respect my opinions and ask for my advice.

I'm not a wise man. I talk too much about everything, most of all about  myself. I am too open, too confessional, too chatty. I'm not discreet. So, for what's worth, I 'm going to be straight with you. Marriage is not a child's game. It's a fucking goddamn, deadly serious business. Tricia is attractive and very sexy and I know you love her, considering what she has done to you. But, please remember, love is not everything. Take it from me, a guy who could write a book about love. I've told you about my love life, the tragedies and triumphs of it. I've told you my past. I think I finally know something about women. A woman can only love a man if she respects him, besides the physical attraction and monetary and status considerations. From what Tricia has done to you, I can safely, if not definitely, concluded that she has no respect for you. She didn't care about your feelings when she screwed around while dating you. No self-respecting man would tolerate that. They say life is stranger than fiction. I think your love for Tricia certainly is. Please think what would happen if marrying you, she continues screwing other men and you get mad again and hit her again and she has grounds for divorce. You would lose her, your money, and children if there are any. Kenny, a nymphomaniac stays a nymphomaniac. Like love, sex is not everything. There are other things in life worth fighting for. Self-respect is one. Patriotism is another. Filial duty and responsibility is yet another. You told me that your father would disown you if you go ahead with the marriage plan. Don't be self-centered. Try to make your dad happy. He won't be around forever. He loves you very much. I don't really know what's wrong with you, with your taste with women. Why don't you settle down with a decent, sensible girl? Like the other night, you wanted me to fix you up with the Mongolian girl because she was physically attractive even after I told you she was uneducated and ignorant. She doesn't know anything about the history of her country. Besides, she is tough, not sweet at all. Women like that, you've got to stay away from them. Don't get your life ruined by pussies. Don't think with your dick. Have some love for your dad. Strive to make him happy. He loves you."