Lucian took us to a bar that only serves wine, beer, and soju cocktails. It was the middle of the day, but Lucian felt he deserved a break from being on the phone to Tokyo since 2 a.m. This bar was dim, and since you couldn’t tell what time it was outside, it made you feel innocent about being there at one in the afternoon. Lucian never wants to spend too much time outdoors because, he says, “Honey, I am Dark Enough.” Lucian’s best friend from Portland, Jeffrey, met us there. They’re quite close. I can never tell whether or not they’re in a fight. It’s like me and Gala. Living with Lucian requires being on his side. Jeffrey works at a gift shop in the village. He went to school with Lucian. They majored in the same thing, and he spent a couple of months in a village near Marseille. Lucian teased Jeffrey, saying his type is “someone who will take care of him,” and I said, “Whose isn’t?”
Lucian and I went to get a drink. There were a couple of older men at the bar drinking alone. When Lucian ordered for me, one of the men nudged my side and said, “What are you doing here?” I didn’t know what he meant. He said, “This isn’t a place for you.” Lucian looked over at him and said, “Do you mean because she’s a girl? Is that what really offends you? She’s my sister so mind your own business you old, white queen.” I fell silent. Lucian put his arm around me and steered me back to the table. He said, “Forget about that. It’s nothing.”
On my way to the bodega to take out cash on my credit card, I bumped into someone I knew. He said, “I didn’t realize you were even in the country.” I was a little surprised and accidentally invited him to come to the bar. I’d been introduced to Noel Christie by a couple of mutual friends when I’d last visited New York, right before moving to London. He was quiet in a way I thought contemplative. I had only been in town for a couple of days, and one of my friends told me that Noel wanted to take me out. I remember it was sunny, but the air was moist. It was his twenty-sixth birthday. We went for a long walk in the park, and then took the subway to Ninth Street. I remember saying, “Oh, I love this part of New York.” And he said brusquely, “No kidding. Everyone loves this part of New York. It’s the highest rent per square foot.” That shut me up for at least a couple of minutes. For some reason, the experience really stayed with me. I realize now, the older you get, the harder it is to be impressed because people make you feel ashamed of ever being impressed by anything at all. I keep many glowing remarks to myself because of this.
At first sight, Noel was surprisingly tender towards me. He put his hand on my shoulder when he asked how I was. My shirt was thin, and I could feel the warmth of his fingers through the cotton. At the bar, I introduced him: “This is Noel. We used to court, didn’t we?” There was a pause. Gala, Lucian, and Jeffrey seemed awkward after that. Noel said hi and bye, and we walked outside together. He gave me a long hug that did not seem platonic because his hands reached for my lower back. He gave me his number. Before turning the corner, he looked at me and said, “Like a ghost, you just come outta nowhere.” When I came back inside, Gala pursed her lips. “Why are you being so weird? Are you drunk?” I said no, not really, and Jeffrey said, “How do you know all these people?” And I replied, “It’s not like I’ve never been to New York before, I’ve Been Here.” Lucian said, “Clearly.”