This is a first, folks: Mr. Alex Zola of The Zola System, chimes in with a doozy of a guest post, titled "Her Dog Wanted Me More than She Did"
After months of getting nowhere with Jamie, I began to wonder if she was really interested in me or was trying to set her Chihuahua Oscar up with my leg. Talk about your bait-and-switch con!
Jamie never went anywhere without Oscar; and, of course, he was with her with her the first time she came into my bar. When I reached out to pet him, Oscar jumped out of her bag and gummed the cuff of my pants. As he humped my leg, Jamie apologized, but she didn’t try to stop him.
Blonde and skinny, Jamie wore the fashion model red lipstick of the moment. Born in the West Village, she grew up in the Hell’s Kitchen and the Bronx. But she’d taught herself to speak with a perfect midwestern accent. “I used to walk home from school everyday saying “girl’ and ” New York ‘ properly so I wouldn’t sound like some trashy Brooklyn girl.”
On our first date, Jamie, a vegetarian, chose dinner at a steakhouse because she loved their whole live lobsters. Thinking this was an important date in our burgeoning relationship, I wore a suit and tie. Jamie came in red flannel p.j.’s and brought Oscar.
There was no sex between me and Jamie, only the implied promise of sex to come, but Oscar had my leg. Shortly after that, she left New York City.
“My whole life is wrapped up in memories of this town. It hurts to be here,” she explained; and I was attracted to her melancholy.
The next time I heard from her, six months later, she was living in Seattle, working for a law firm, missing New York and on her way back. She said she couldn’t wait to see me and wanted me to meet her at the airport. I was there with flowers and champagne. We did not have sex that night. A month later, she had to leave New York again, for San Diego this time, because memories of her late mother were weighing her down. Oscar nipped at the cuffs of my pants.
Nine months later - she came back to the city and went from the airport to the bar I was working to see me. Every the optimist, I made a date with her. She left Oscar at home and said, “I’m going to stay in New York, no matter how depressed I get.”
One night we lay on the bed, her arms crossed in front of her breasts. I tried to cuddle up to her but she wasn’t having any of it. Oscar saw me and started in on the cuffs of my jeans. It was his idea of foreplay.
“Do you think chocolate brown is a good color for that wall?” She asked me.
“Sure.” I said.
Oscar was on my leg. I tried to shake him off. He gummed me again and kept rubbing my leg.
“Will you help me paint it?” she asked, picking Oscar up and taking him off the bed. I took this as a hopeful sign.
“Sure I will.” I said.
Oscar bounded back into the room and went straight for my leg. I shook it hard but I couldn’t budge him. Finally, I stood up and pushed Oscar off me.
I never saw either one of them again.