"This isn't my car if that's what you were thinking." Like I'd ever drive a white Mercury Cougar with a tan vinyl roof.
"I wasn't thinking about that, but now I'm thinking: Why are you driving a car with Quebec plates?"
Good point, didn't think of that. "It's my friend's car. We came here together in his car, but he went home with this hippy chick who lives around here. And I needed a car to get home." Phew!
"Home?"
Uuummm..."Yeah, I have to stay with my parents when I'm in town."
"Why are you here anyways?"
My story, my story. "I'm scouting for locations for my Bill Murray movie. Between the exchange rate and lower local labour costs, we save like forty per cent shooting here."
"Who did you say your friend went home with?"
Yesss, a change of topic! "I don't know her name but she has hair down to her ass."
"Celeste! Her father's this zillionaire pharmaceutical tycoon. As for her, well, she's been with half the guys in the neighborhood and..."
CUT TO:
INTERIOR: CELESTE'S APARTMENT
A brownstone walk-up with creaky oak floors, hot-water radiators and lots of macramé and beaded curtains.
"Just take off your clothes here...What did you say your name was?"
"Ronnie, but my friends call me Finkie."
"Finkie? That's an odd name," Celeste said while slipping out of her dress.
Hot bod, kind of furry though; the armpits, the legs and Lord, the bush, a great big brown grizzly bush. Finkie almost lunged towards the phone on the macramé-covered end-table, but using every neuron of self-restraint, was able to control himself. How he longed to call Harry and report back on the hippy chick's crazy grizzly bush. That's what best friends do.
No, he couldn't make that kind of call...Anymore...Maybe once more...At least if he knew he wouldn't get caught. Oh, but it isn't mature. That kind of behavior isn't acceptable...now, under these circumstances. But someday, when he had his own hit reality show on the Playboy Channel, Getting Lucky: Live!, he could do what he wanted and no one would dare to call him immature. Except Harry; best friends can call each other anything.
"It's just a nickname, short for Finkelstein. I've actually been thinking of changing my last name to something more classy, like Da Vinci, De Carlo, y'know...De something. Let's face it, Finkelstein is a name that works if you're a Three Stooge. Moe, Larry and Curly -- Finkelstein material. But I'm no Stooge," he sighed. "I have to work the phones if I want to get in and see people. He lifted the phone and pressed it against his ear. 'That's Fin-kel-stein, F-I-N...K...E...L...Stein with the E before the I...Can you spell that again?' Fuck, man. What was my great great zayde thinking when he founded the family name? I vant a ridicalous soundink nem det evryvun shood leff."
"Do you want to make love or just talk?"
"Whaddaya think, Celeste?" Finkie contemplated her great big brown grizzly bush. "So what's your last name, Celeste?"
"RA-Elle-Ia. That's capital R, capital A, hyphen, capital E...little L, little L again, little e...dash, not a hyphen, capital I, little A. Fini. I'm the only one in the world with this name, I created it myself," she said while flipping her thick mane to the side. "My last name in this life used to be Schwartz but I was once a Medici. A plebeian name like Schwartz, what a cosmic mistake! I believe that everyone should change their name. A name should be like a river, fluid, flowing and ever-changing."
"..." Finkie was speechless, standing there like a dorky six-year old with his hand in his underwear, unself-consciously fiddling with his balls.
"Ronnie, are you going to take off your underwear already?"
Finkie pointed to the drooling black Great Dane lying on the floor. "I was hoping you might take the dog out of the room first."
"Galaxy? He's been my guardian though many lives. He won't bother anyone. He just likes to watch."
Galaxy barked.
"Now off with the rest!" Celeste seized the the elastic band of Finkie's underwear between her teeth and slid the grey Fruit of the Looms down to his bony knees. She spread the underwear wide open for a quick inspection. Skid-free. Inspection passed. Finkie was thankful that he'd chosen to wear colored briefs that morning.
The hair along Galaxy's back stood on end while he growled.
"Maybe he smells the baby powder on my balls and doesn't like it?"
Celeste looked down at her bush and pondered. "Organic talcum powder or the commercial stuff?"
"Organic, actually my sister Sharon makes it."
"Oh my, it sounds lovely. I must savor the scent." She slipped off Finkie's underwear and buried her head in his 'standing room only' Private Members section.
"Aaa-choooo!" she sneezed, leaving behind a hanging looey dangling precariously from atop Finkie's mighty peak.
"Ooohhh maaannn!" Finkie cried. He shook his thing and flung off the hanging looey. The great elongated gob of goo danced and fluttered in the air, until it was intercepted and slurped up by Galaxy. "That's some gnarly Scoobie snack!"
"Excusez moi, Ronnie...I'm horrified. I didn't know that there was lavender in the talcum powder. Lavender is an allergy I developed in the sixth century whilst on a spice caravan with the Moors in the Gobi. But let's not allow that to spoil our night... my eager young lover."
Finkie turned his head and rolled his eyes. Quelle fruit-cake. Quelle bush. But alas, lust among young men trumps all, so he hung in there with an open mind.
Celeste skipped to the table in the corner of the room, dipped her hand into a candy jar and popped a tiny red pill. "One for me."
She took out another red pill and skipped back to Finkie. "And one for you."
"?" Finkie, slack-jawed.
Celeste popped the pill in his open mouth.
"What did I just swallow?"
"A trust pill," she said while stuffing a nipple into Finkie's open mouth. "Don't worry, it's just a pomegranate vitamin. All natural and chock-full of vitamin C."
Finkie tried to pull her erect nipple out of his mouth, but Celeste stuffed it back in.
"That pill was a test. If the would-be lover won't take it, no questions asked: He goes home. But if the lover takes it on blind trust, he gets to feast on these delightful engorged ruby nipples." She pulled out a nipple from Finkie's mouth. "Feast, dear man-child, feast."
Finkie, "***"
Celeste stuffed the other nipple in his mouth. "I will now recite one of my poems whilst you stir my passions with your lips, your tongue, your teeth...BITE IT! BITE IT!"
Finkie pulled the boob from his mouth and gasped for air,"Hey, I'm not into biting."
"Neither am I, fool! Just feast away! BITE IT! BITE IT! is the title of my poem." Celeste grabbed Finkie by the hair, stuffed the nipple back in his mouth and recited,
"Bite it, bite it!
Eat me, treat me, deplete me, excrete me
Fill me with your syrup of love
Over centuries, over eons
Over clouds, over stars
On Earth, and on Mars
We meld flesh.
Rise like the phoenix, rise
Onto these gossamer wings
Rise
To the sky, to the sky
Ever high, so high...
err fly."
Celeste turned around quickly and slapped her ass.
Finkie, "?"
"No, there really was a fly on my ass," she said, "but I scared the little scamp away."
Celeste opened the drawer of the end-table, pulled out a jeweled compact and opened it. She took out two blotters of acid and said, "And now we shall fly on gossamer wings."
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