The Right Thing to Say
A New Year’s Eve Party, well past midnight. I am downstairs with an artist friend, the fabulous diva who is her gay male twin, and a couple of others. I have been kneeling in front of a low chair, and to loosen up, I stretch backwards on it, hands over my head, so I am a supine line facing The Artist, with my knees just short of touching hers.
"Dammit Victor!" she yells, "I’m trying to be faithful!"
And it was simply the sweetest thing she could possibly say.
