K lives in the same salmon adobe Granada apartments as myself. She has three daughters with two different men. It seems a good deal of the women I have been meeting lately have several children with different fathers.
K has the face of a pale faced sooty miner or a bigot southern sheriff.
She has large shapely breasts and nipples as large as my fist.
I met K at Chopsticks 2 The Stargate Lounge on E Burnside owned by Mr. David Cho.
Those were your breasts that you texted me, I said.
Yeah K said. I know exactly how to take the pic. I did it from below.
I thought you weren’t going to come. I asked you to. And then I asked you not to. I was too drunk.
I saw your breasts and I had no choice, I said.
They are only breasts, right, K said.
Yes and no, I said. They are unique. Not your everyday breasts.
K leveled me with her gaze that looked like a broiling desert highway. In boots she’s
as tall as myself, over six feet tall. I like her. In my mind and her mind she’s larger than life. In reality she shares a room with a phlegmatic roommate and she works as a receptionist at Providence. Her hair is reddish brownish black voluminous and long.
K was not alone. Her bf was with her. She wears winsome braces and a white leather jacket.
Pale hipster youngsters in their late twenties sang karaoke songs. One particularly fresh faced young woman with a short haircut sang:Goodbye horses flying over you.
It hurt to look at her.
K deftly sang a song by Scorpion for Mr. David Cho.
My voice is giving out, K said. I’m going out to smoke.
Maybe you shouldn’t smoke, I said.
I know, K said. I need to quit.
With these tits I can do what I want, K said.
Yes, I said.
K and the regulars that occupy the dance floor and work the microphone have been going to Chopsticks 2 for ten years. They are closing it down. Mr David Cho,
a bald diminutive Chinese American man, is going to open another Chopstick 2 not far from the original Chopsticks 2.
Rock stars sing here K said. She had a tall glass of hard liquor and ice in her hand.
Wow, I said.
Have you heard of Bronson Twins.
No, I said.
They sing here, K said.
So the boobs were to your liking, K said.
Gosh I said. They left me speechless. Can you send me a pic of your hindquarters and ankles?
Oh geez, K said. You are asking for a lot.
The skinny want what the fat people’s got, I said. You can never please anyone in this world.
What, K said.
Lyrics from a song, I said.

A is someone I want to get to know. I think she may be able to teach me something
about grief.
A’s bestie injured his hand with an air gun.
I dislike guns I said.
A had a spat with her boy. The teenager fled on barefoot. She recovered him at his friend’s home.
I admire her patience and tenacity.
Everyone needs family A said.
You don’t scare easily, A said.
People scare me when they want something from me and I don’t know what it is or I can’t give it and they get angry.
I don’t know how she gets anyone to know her when she may not want anyone to know her and may not know herself apart from her limited situation.
Do you get scared of losing yourself, I said.
I let people in, A said.
Oh that’s scary, I said. So you do know who you are most of the time even though you have to manage the desire of men.
Yes, A said.
You are transparent because you have been to hell and back, I said. You have nothing to lose.
Yes, A said.
A like Amy thinks she looks better with age.
A doesn’t want to feel indebted to anyone. I agree with her, to feel indebted or to be a slave can make a person suicidal.
I ooze sexuality and innocence, A said. It confuses men.
Men like vulnerability, I said.
Predators like vulnerability, A said. Someone once said they didn’t know whether to place a rose on my ass or to scream at my vagina.
I want to make an effort to know A. I don’t want to become obsessed with an image.
Men on dating sites offer A a hundred dollars for motel room sex.
They treat me like an escort but are too cheap to pay for one, A said.