Read Online Literacy and Longing in L. A. by Jennifer Kaufman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jennifer Kaufman
Ads: Link
lightning bolt one day at the precinct when he first spotted DetectiveMaria Gonzales, a member of the Bicycle Co-ordination Unit (BCU) of the Venice Beach Patrol. She was raven-haired, perky, and ambitious, with killer calves. She had an AA degree from Antelope Valley College in Lancaster, north of L.A., and was in line for a promotion to the central bureau. She had her eye on Mel from the moment she met him as he was racing down the stairs to assist her with a homeless drunk perp who was feeling her up as she was taking him down. She was sweet and bubbly to Mel and a bitch to everyone else.
Mel and Darlene were about to celebrate their tenth wedding anniversary when he announced he’d fallen for someone else. “I felt as if my body was taking a punch,” she told me. She begged him to stay, told him she’d change. All to no avail. There was a period of emotional wrangling, but he was out of there by Christmas.
Darlene went into a funk, which lasted six months. Classifieds gave her too much empty time to think, so she quit her job at the
Times
and through a friend of a friend got into the Teamsters, where she is now a driver for the studios. During this period, she met me for a drink a couple of times a week and cried in her beer. The Teamster job is great for her. She went from “Please come back” to “Drop dead.” The pay is terrific and she gets to drive the stars around. But both of us know that, deep down, she’d return it all to have Mel back again.
On her last job, she drove a famous male action star, and Darlene was flattered instead of insulted when he greeted her every morning with “nice tits.” She’s one of the few people who knows My Big Freeway Secret.Sometimes when I’m desperate and she’s not working, she’ll offer to be my driver. She’s given me several freeway lessons, which have all ended disastrously. The last one we just said “Fuck it,” and ended up in some bar off the 405 swilling beer and laughing uproariously.
That’s the thing about Darlene. She thinks the best of everyone. In fact, I’ve never heard her say a bad word about anyone. She’s still best friends with Mel and I hear that Detective Gonzales is long gone—maybe at some point she and Mel will get back together. At the moment, she likes cute, young guys she meets at Hollywood clubs who are totally inappropriate for her. I’m hoping it’s a passing phase, because inevitably she gets jilted, not to mention the danger factor. Currently, she’s still mooning over her latest disaster.
“He was so gorgeous and awesome Saturday night. He loved my outfit—you know, that yellow miniskirt. But he hasn’t called since he left Sunday morning. I just can’t believe he hasn’t called me.”
“You pick him up in a bar. You bring him home. He hasn’t called? You’re lucky you’re alive.”
“Oh, Dora. You don’t understand. He really liked me.”
I always try to be kind when we get to this point in the conversation, and there is just no good way to say it. She’s almost forty. They’re twenty-five. They like her in the nightclub lights and they come to their senses in the morning. But why bother trying to tell her this. “Darlene, maybe he has a girlfriend and thought better of it the next day. Why can’t you just give someone your own age a chance?”
“You know I don’t like older men, Dora. I don’t find them attractive. They’re so uncool. I’d rather just have moments with someone I’m into than a long, drawn-out relationship with someone who leaves me cold. Anyway, I don’t need a man to support me. I’m just fine the way I am.”
“That’s not the point. It’s nice to have someone to come home to.”
“I could say the same thing to you, Dora.”
“Okay. Forget it.”
We decide to drive back into town, stopping by McKenzie’s first because Darlene wants to get another one of her dumb fantasies that the library doesn’t carry.
I debate whether to tell her anything about Fred.
Mel and Darlene were about to celebrate their tenth wedding anniversary when he announced he’d fallen for someone else. “I felt as if my body was taking a punch,” she told me. She begged him to stay, told him she’d change. All to no avail. There was a period of emotional wrangling, but he was out of there by Christmas.
Darlene went into a funk, which lasted six months. Classifieds gave her too much empty time to think, so she quit her job at the
Times
and through a friend of a friend got into the Teamsters, where she is now a driver for the studios. During this period, she met me for a drink a couple of times a week and cried in her beer. The Teamster job is great for her. She went from “Please come back” to “Drop dead.” The pay is terrific and she gets to drive the stars around. But both of us know that, deep down, she’d return it all to have Mel back again.
On her last job, she drove a famous male action star, and Darlene was flattered instead of insulted when he greeted her every morning with “nice tits.” She’s one of the few people who knows My Big Freeway Secret.Sometimes when I’m desperate and she’s not working, she’ll offer to be my driver. She’s given me several freeway lessons, which have all ended disastrously. The last one we just said “Fuck it,” and ended up in some bar off the 405 swilling beer and laughing uproariously.
That’s the thing about Darlene. She thinks the best of everyone. In fact, I’ve never heard her say a bad word about anyone. She’s still best friends with Mel and I hear that Detective Gonzales is long gone—maybe at some point she and Mel will get back together. At the moment, she likes cute, young guys she meets at Hollywood clubs who are totally inappropriate for her. I’m hoping it’s a passing phase, because inevitably she gets jilted, not to mention the danger factor. Currently, she’s still mooning over her latest disaster.
“He was so gorgeous and awesome Saturday night. He loved my outfit—you know, that yellow miniskirt. But he hasn’t called since he left Sunday morning. I just can’t believe he hasn’t called me.”
“You pick him up in a bar. You bring him home. He hasn’t called? You’re lucky you’re alive.”
“Oh, Dora. You don’t understand. He really liked me.”
I always try to be kind when we get to this point in the conversation, and there is just no good way to say it. She’s almost forty. They’re twenty-five. They like her in the nightclub lights and they come to their senses in the morning. But why bother trying to tell her this. “Darlene, maybe he has a girlfriend and thought better of it the next day. Why can’t you just give someone your own age a chance?”
“You know I don’t like older men, Dora. I don’t find them attractive. They’re so uncool. I’d rather just have moments with someone I’m into than a long, drawn-out relationship with someone who leaves me cold. Anyway, I don’t need a man to support me. I’m just fine the way I am.”
“That’s not the point. It’s nice to have someone to come home to.”
“I could say the same thing to you, Dora.”
“Okay. Forget it.”
We decide to drive back into town, stopping by McKenzie’s first because Darlene wants to get another one of her dumb fantasies that the library doesn’t carry.
I debate whether to tell her anything about Fred.
Similar Books
