“For sure she’s doing what you think she’s doing. Of course you feel bad. How many times you called now without an answer? Seven? Eight? She’s outta town, too, isn’t she, just like you? You wanna keep calling on that stupid phone? What’d she say she was doing, going for drinks after the interview? And that she needed to extend for one more day? And what time is it now? One thirty? How many hours is that? That’s what goes on, man. She is doing what you think she’s doing. Of course she hasn’t called. She’s not gonna call. She’s not even thinking about you. She doesn’t even want to think about you. You are not even on her mind. No way. Not now. That’s why you’ll never hear me say nothing to no one. Not now. Not never. Hey, don’t get me wrong. I’ve done it, man, I have. I’ve done it in spades. My third wife, you know that Johnny Cash line, ‘We got married in a fever, hotter than a pepper sprout?’ That was her, amigo, my third wife. She was fine. So fine, slim little waist, big little rump, loved to hump, couldn’t get enough. We were in the Marina Del Rey once, the guy on the front desk had to call and tell us to tone it down, her screams were rattling the people in the next room. All of it was good, man, all of it, until I told her I loved her, I mean truly, truly loved her, that she had me completely, not what she wanted to hear. It lasted about three years before I caught her in bed with some fat slob of a mortgage broker whose big fuckin’ dream was to one day run Bank of America, Maybe, he tells her, maybe if he had the right woman with him he coulda done it, maybe he could still do it, ’n’ they could travel the world together, that’s what he tells her. My fine little woman, right? Jesus, fuck! Never again, man. Never! Never tell ’em shit! Like this one guy I know, owns a paving company just like me, he goes over to his ex-wife’s in Newport to borrow some money offa her, her new husband’s got lots of money, he’s in the fiberglass boat business, and she gets him in the bedroom and shows him her new fake tits, and he says, ‘Yeah, they look nice, but so did your old ones, what was wrong with them?’ And she gets close to him and says, ‘Don’t you want to touch them?’ And he goes, ‘Well,’ and one thing leads to another, and he starts to pull her pants down, but she says ‘No,’ she can’t do that, not in her new husband’s house, but she’ll blow him if he wants. Well, he wants, ’cause, like he tells her, ‘How come you always refused me BJs when we were married?’ ‘Because I always knew you wanted them,’ she says, ‘but now you’re reluctant.’ So she blows him, ’n’ then he drives home with a boner still going on, ’cause he’s still thinking about it, see, ’n’ his wife comes out the front door and says, ‘What are you doing sitting out there in the car? It’s hot out there.’ Well, what he’s doing is waiting for his dick to go down, so he says, ‘Thinking.’ And she says, ‘Well, stop thinking, and come inside, and I’ll get you some dinner.’ So he goes in walking sideways, like he’s got something in his shoe, so she won’t see the come stain that’s leaked out on his pants, and then eats her dinner and feels like shit about himself on both ends, but just keeps his mouth shut to see how it’ll all turn out. He’s a grownup, see. Now that’s why I like staying in hotels. ’Cause what you do in here, once you do it, it’s done, and when you leave it, it stays in here, ’cause you know what it all boils down to? Jus’ keeping your mouth shut. That’s what hotels are for. You come in and order anything you want. They bring it to you. You have it. It’s done. It’s over. You don’t tell anybody. Don’t even worry about it. That’s where your old lady is, isn’t she? Staying in some big hotel? Keeping her dignity by keeping her distance? If my friend hadn’t let his ex know he wanted blowjobs he woulda got ’em, right? And the way he handled his new wife he probably got another one that night. That’s the only way it gets done, unless you want to keep sittin’ in here bawling like a baby over what you think she’s doing, or has already done, and, by the sound of it, is going to do again. Just assume she is doing what you think she’s doing, and assume you are not going to hear anything about it, ’cause you won’t. Certainly not the truth of it. She’s a full-grown woman, ain’t she? An adult? Just like you, right? Aren’t you done with this bullshit yet? There’s only one reason your phone isn’t ringing and you know it as well as I do. C’mon, let’s go down to the bar and get a drink. I’m buyin’. No sense in keeping this shit up. All the cryin’ in the world has never brought one woman back, and that’s a stone-cold fact. Time ’n’ alcohol’s the only thing that’ll fix this thing up. That, and we’ll get another girl up here. This one just for you, even better than the one I just had. It’s amazing how much better you’ll feel after you do that. When you get back in town and walk in that door of yours you won’t have to ask no questions, you won’t wanna ask no questions, and you won’t have to give no answers either. Everything’ll be fine. You’ll see.
“C’mon, let’s go. Get up. Take that damn pillow off your face, and let’s go.”