|
|
|
One Bite of the Big AppleThis story may contain adult content. |
| Written by Eric Blair | |
| Monday, 25 February 2008 | |
ONE BITE OF THE BIG APPLE
“God did say, ‘You must eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must savor it, or you will surely die.’” – Genesis III, verse 3 (adapted) ---------------------------------
Gordon was standing outside Macy’s Department Store in Manhattan where Broadway meets 6th Avenue. Herald Square, as it is known, seemed to him at this moment to be the center of the commercial universe. In addition to the Macy’s behind him, famous for being the largest department store in the world, there was The Manhattan Mall on one corner and the giant Victoria’s Secret across the way. Besides these monstrosities there are an infinite number of small shops, restaurants and street vendors, and enough people to pack Giants Stadium— an army of ants marching busily to and fro. It was a little before noon on one of those exceptionally warm November days that led one to believe not only that global warming was real, but that perhaps winter might not come at all this year. Gordon usually ran late for everything but not today. Today, at noon, he was to meet up with Rosemary. Rosemary was in town from London for shopping and a much needed break from the world of high finance. The two met what now seemed like ages ago in a very different place, on a whole different planet really. Gordon had been quite fond of Rosemary then, and if his emotions had not tricked him, she too was fond of him. Waiting, he could hardly control his excitement. ‘Gordon, Gordon’ It was Rosemary. She had spotted him from across the street while waiting for the cars to clear and was headed right for him. ‘Hello sweetheart’ he replied, unsure if the greeting was appropriate. He embraced her and held on for just a second or two longer than what would have been fitting— for they had not, at least yet, been lovers. ‘Where do you want go…sightseeing…shopping?’ The two of them had made generic plans to spend the day together and Gordon had offered to be her tour guide. He knew the city well and wanted to show off his knowledge so she would think highly of him; but now that she was standing there he had suddenly become a little hesistant. ‘You’re the boss’ she said and warmed Gordon’s heart with a smile. Gordon knew very well that he was not in fact the boss. If he were, he would immediately take Rosemary back to the hotel, they would engage in sexual intercourse, and she would not have much time left for shopping or sightseeing. He wondered if all young men thought this way or if that was just a stereotype. At any rate, in Gordon’s case, the stereotype was deadly accurate. The “boss” eventually suggested lunch at his favorite pizza place just up 6th Avenue, then going to the top of the Empire State Building (something he hoped Rosemary would find romantic), followed by an afternoon of shopping (something he was quite sure would turn her on). After Gordon showed her how one is supposed to "properly" eat a NYC pizza slice— by folding it in half; they made the short walk back down 6th Avenue to the Empire State Building, once again the tallest building in Manhattan. As they waited in line to go up to the observation deck, Gordon did his best to explain the history: ‘The years after WWI were boom years in the US and especially in NYC. Engineers were developing innovative construction techniques and the race was on. A new record tallest building was christened virtually every year of the decade. The Chrysler Building held the record previous to the Empire State. Then, in ’29, the stock market crashed signaling the beginnings of the Great Depression. The Empire State Building would remain the tallest until the 1970’s when it was eclipsed by the World Trade Center Towers.’ As Gordon was talking he began to wonder to himself: Who had been responsible for all this construction? He wasn’t thinking about the laborers who he deemed to be no different from slaves. Those laborers became, in the vacuum of history, not unlike the Nubians— the poor souls brought to Egypt to construct the Pyramids. No, Gordon was thinking about the men of vision and of capital; especially those with the desire to build the biggest, the best. He thought about the buildings, each one taller than what had come before— the phallic symbolism of the race did not escape him. Profit motive, the need to put capital to work. Was it that simple? There had to be more driving them. What it was he could not decipher. ‘Will we have to wait much longer’ asked Rosemary as they exited the first set of elevators. ‘I’m not really sure, I’ve only been up here once before. But trust me; it will be worth the wait.’ His reply exuded the type of confidence a man feels when he is in public with an exceptional beauty like Rosemary. And why shouldn’t he be confident, thought Gordon, the day was off to a wonderful start. When they finally reached the top it was worth it. ‘Breathtaking’ she said turning to Gordon and for the first time that day their eyes met. Gordon could hardly contain himself. He wanted to put his arms around her, tell her how badly he wanted to make love to her. Folly, it could not be. He knew he must keep playing the game. They were on the south side of the building and Gordon began describing the scene. ‘On the left is the East River’ and pointing to one of the many bridges, ‘that one, that’s the Brooklyn Bridge.’ ‘And look down there, Chinatown.’ ‘That’s downtown’ said Gordon pointing to the large group of skyscrapers at the southern tip of the island. ‘And if you look beyond downtown you can see the Statute of Liberty, do you see it?’ Rosemary wasn’t saying much but it didn’t matter to Gordon. She was having a good time; a good time with him, that’s all that mattered. They made their way around the observation deck, stopping on each side so as to give Gordon a chance to comment on the view. He was taking his time, hopeful the moment would present itself when he could kiss her. It never materialized. As they were leaving Gordon asked what type of shopping she was looking to do. ‘Oh I don’t know I’ve already been down Madison Avenue and all that’ she said. ‘Take me somewhere that’s the real NYC, somewhere a tourist like me wouldn’t know about.’ ‘Sure, I know just the place. But why don’t we stop for some coffee— err, tea first.’ The stop was just a ruse to give him a chance to think. He had no idea where to take her. Gordon hated shopping and not even being with Rosemary could completely alleviate this hatred. This could be it if he didn’t think of something quick. Of course she had already been to all the obvious places, she loved to shop. Think goddamn it, think. Gordon began frantically texting everyone he knew who might know where to go. With any luck someone would get back to him soon enough. Sitting there having drinks Gordon could barely keep up his end of the conversation. It wasn’t just that he didn’t know where to take her shopping either. He realized he had been fooling himself all day. He had been fooling himself for months since he first found out she was coming to New York. Rosemary was not only beautiful, she was successful. Why would she ever get involved with someone like Gordon? Gordon was educated but he was not successful. He chose not to be successful. Worst yet, he wasn’t even sure he ever wanted to be successful. He never looked for work. If you asked him why he would give some vague response about how a job would interfere with his writing. Presently, sitting here with Rosemary, Gordon realized he had been lying to himself. Lying about his writing and lying about his potential. Everyone struggles at times but they keep fighting, that is largely what life is. But not Gordon, he was defeated. He had stopped fighting. And a girl like Rosemary would never go for a defeated, broke, liar like Gordon. Just as they were getting up to pay the tab, Gordon’s phone rang. It was his friend Julia. ‘Hey, you should head down to Soho. They have mostly the same stores as midtown but I know of a couple designers having sample sales. I’ll text you the addresses.’ A lifesaver, that’s what Julia was. She always knew what was going on in the city, what clubs had special parties, all of that. With his confidence still in a fairly fractured state Gordon hailed a cab and they were off. The weather was still cooperating nicely so they decided to get out at Houston Street and walk the remaining few blocks down to Spring Street where the first address Julia had suggested was. They talked as they walked and soon found the place. The lone sign, handwritten on regular size typewriter paper was taped to the door. It said to take the stairs up to the third floor. Gordon held the door open for Rosemary and followed her up the narrow stairwell. As he did, he watched Rosemary’s hips sliding back and forth as she ascended the stairs in front of him. Her body was thin but not too thin. She had great curves and for the first time he could stare without getting caught. Gordon swelled with excitement. Maybe he hadn’t been fooling himself after all. She didn’t know his situation; if he could just keep up appearances he might have a chance. So what if he never wrote so much as a lousy poem, what he really wanted was literally in front of his face. He simply had to have her. The tiny hallway opened into a large space teeming with shoppers and customer service people. It was a makeshift sales floor and, like at many of these events, everyone was jumping around in some sort of crazed frenzy like the monkeys you see at the Bronx Zoo. ‘This way’ said Rosemary to Gordon, rolling up her sleeves and getting ready to mix it up with the rest of ‘em. But Gordon didn’t hear her. He didn’t see the other people either; he was still on the stairs. Rosemary was now turned toward him, one step above. He held her close to him and could feel her breasts as they pressed up against his body. Gordon was kissing her on the neck, just below her left ear. He was lost, lost in her hair and lost in her scent. ‘Sir, excuse me, can I help you find something sir?’ ‘What? Oh, no thank you. Ah maybe…‘ Gordon stuttered ‘I seem to have lost my g—‘ he caught himself, ‘my friend.’ After a few minutes of searching he found Rosemary. She had what appeared to be an entire wardrobe of clothes in her arms. ‘I’m going to try these on’ she said. ‘I simply can’t believe the prices, some of these are 80% off.’ Gordon waited outside the dressing rooms and occasionally Rosemary would come out to ask what he thought of a particular outfit. He always responded in the affirmative: ‘That looks amazing on you.’ ‘I really like that one; it brings out your eyes.’ Whatever Gordon said aloud however, he kept thinking the same thing in his head: It would look fabulous lying on the floor next to my bed. After some more searching followed by another trip to the dressing room, they headed for the cashier. Oh how desperately Gordon wished he could pay for the items she selected. But alas, it was inconceivable. He had only $60 dollars in the world and was still hopeful she would have dinner with him. With any luck, it would at least cover that. Back out on Spring Street the air had cooled considerably but Rosemary didn’t seem to notice. She was glowing. Just like Gordon had hoped, shopping did the trick. Rosemary was like a runner after a long hard race— tired, but high on endorphins and proud of her success. Gordon, walking with her shopping bags in his left hand, grabbed her forearm with his right and turned her so they were facing each other: ‘Would you give me the pleasure of taking you to dinner’ he asked. ‘Yes, that sounds lovely.’ Gordon quickly suggested a little Italian place he had been to on 44th Street near Times Square. They had a price-fix menu for $18 per person. Eighteen each plus a bottle of cheap wine and tip, he had just enough. Gordon was excited about dinner but as they walked toward the train station he couldn’t shake the thought that somehow the evening would not end as he so desperately desired. The two of them made their way up to 44th via the #1 train from the Canal Street Station. The restaurant was small but cozy and, thought Gordon, pretty classy. They were seated promptly and barely 45 minutes after leaving the sample sale were perusing the menu. They had a choice of four kinds of pasta, six main entrees, and either chocolate cake or strawberry sorbet for dessert. The food was good but the wine was even better. By the time they had finished the first glass Gordon’s confidence had been fully restored. By the middle of the second the conversation had turned flirtatious. Their eyes met once again but this time Rosemary did not look away. Gordon had ordered the cake for dessert while Rosemary got the sorbet. Naturally, they took turns feeding each other a sample. When they had finished eating and the table had been cleared Gordon took her right hand in between his: ‘I am so happy you are here’ he said. ‘I had a wonderful afternoon. It’s awfully nice to see you again Gordon.’ At this point Gordon would have suggested another activity to ensure the night didn’t end, but he knew it wasn't necessary. Even forking over his last $60 did not bother him. They emerged from the dimly lit restaurant arm in arm and headed toward the bright lights of Times Square. Normally being in Times Square upset Gordon to no end. The crowds and obscene prices were one thing but the crass commercialization he could not deal with; it made it hard for him to breath— being at that alter to consumption choked his creative spirit. Not tonight however. Tonight he was with Rosemary. They stood gazing up at the neon lights and giant billboards for underwear as one gazes up at the stars on a clear night in the countryside. He pulled her close and began to kiss her softly. Their tongues hardly met. Even their lips were barely touching and yet it was so warm, so loving. It was funny how consciousness worked thought Gordon. Earlier, when he was daydreaming about kissing Rosemary on the steps, it had seemed so real. And now, when he really held her in his arms, it seemed like a dream. Gordon and Rosemary made the short walk back to her hotel. The room was small but clean and had a nice view of the city. They stood at the foot of the bed continuing the slow, gentle kisses. Rosemary unbuttoned Gordon’s shirt and as she put her hand on his chest she could feel his heartbeat. He pulled off her blouse, revealing a bright red bra. The beauty of her body made him question his consciousness again, this time aloud: ‘Is this really happening?’ ‘You tell me’ she replied, dropping to her knees and undoing Gordon’s belt buckle. He felt the warmth of her mouth and his legs became weak. Gordon was floating; he was back atop the Empire State Building. He could see every one of the 18 million people that inhabit the tri-state area. Gordon would not have traded places with any of them. And there was no one he would rather have been with than Rosemary. Back in the hotel room Gordon lifted her up. They began to kiss again but now more deeply, passionately. She could feel his desire against her navel. He threw her down on the bed and with one motion undid her skirt and pulled it right off. Standing over her like that— in a red bra, red thong, and a fiery look in her eyes to match made him wild. Gordon jumped on to the bed. He was no longer himself; he was primitive, raw. Rosemary lay on her back. Gordon was to her left, propped up on his side. He had to tell himself to slow down. He needed Rosemary to feel for him the same unbridled lust that he had for her. They were still kissing passionately as Gordon’s hand made its way down, down inside the front of the red thong. He could control himself no longer and climbed on top of her. His hands and mouth were everywhere but he made sure she always felt him throbbing on the outside of the thin red panty. Rosemary whispered into his ear: ‘I want to feel you inside me.’ Gordon ripped off the red thong but he would not do as she requested. Not yet. He spread her legs; ran his fingernails from her inner thighs to her ankles and back again. He kissed her stomach, and then moved lower. Rosemary moved her pelvis up and met her lips to his. Gordon started to kiss her gently— almost as he had kissed her on the mouth before. Rosemary was running her fingers through Gordon’s hair and guiding him. Suddenly, she yanked him up. Their eyes locked and he entered her. ‘Thank you’ is what came out of Gordon’s mouth. What he meant to say was that he felt like the luckiest guy in the world to be with her, but now was not the time to explain. Even though it was their first time making love they felt comfortable with each other— switching positions and giving little hints as to what each of them enjoyed. Presently Rosemary was on top, facing away from Gordon and riding him hard. He could feel she was loosing control of herself, overcome by the moment. His right hand was on her hip and with his left he traced her spine all the way up to the back of her head. Gordon grabbed her by the hair and pulled her down on top of him. He put his right arm between her breasts so that his hand rested just below her neck; his left hand he placed on her lower stomach, holding her tight to him with all his strength. Rosemary could not move of her own accord, but in unison they rocked up and down like a ship lost in a stormy sea. Gordon was breathing heavily: ‘Your mine’ He said it almost as unconsciously as the earlier ‘thank you.’ She too was breathing hard but said nothing. He continued, ‘Your mine; from now ‘til the end of time’ ‘Your mine’ ‘Your mine’ He wasn’t sure if he had said it aloud or if the two little words were just reverberating in his head; but at this moment she did belong to him, and he to her. Continuing to hold Rosemary close, Gordon turned over so that he was now on top and behind her. He cupped her breasts in his hands. His eyes were closed; Gordon pictured her as she had looked earlier— lying on the bed in the red bra and matching red thong. He was overtaken by his passion completely and was thrusting himself inside her as fast and as hard as he could. He collapsed on top of her and within seconds had fallen asleep. In the morning Gordon awoke in an empty bed. He noticed it was raining outside and could hear a nasty wind howling. Apparently winter was coming after all. The bathroom door opened: ‘Good morning. I must pack my belongings but I thought I would let you sleep’ said Rosemary casually. ‘Have to catch a cab within the hour if I am to make my flight.’ For a second Gordon wanted to have sex again but almost as soon as the idea popped in his head he realized the pointlessness of it. She had to go and he had to stay. Well, he could not actually stay at the hotel, but he would be staying on this side of the pond. He helped with her luggage and they talked abstractly about meeting up again at some undetermined time and place. The hour passed quickly. He slammed shut the door to the taxi and watched Rosemary wave goodbye as it drove away. Gordon walked through the rain with no umbrella and no particular purpose but in the general direction of Times Square. He passed a beggar on the street and felt compelled to stop. Searching his pockets he produced two quarters, a nickel, and seven pennies. Sixty-two cents was the grand total and he flicked it into the man’s cup. For the generosity of giving away his entire savings, Gordon was rewarded with a look that said: Is that all? But it was not all Gordon had because money was not what he wanted to posses. For Gordon now knew, with the only kind of knowledge that matters, why any man had ever accomplished anything. He knew how the Empire State Building came to be and why pharaohs built pyramids: They wanted to be admired. And Gordon too would achieve something grand— how else was he to win Rosemary’s love and admiration? Copyright 2008 Eric Blair |
|
| Last Updated ( Wednesday, 05 March 2008 ) |
| < Prev | Next > |
|---|
