The Sportin' Life (22 page)

The last thing on earth I wanted to be was Kevin
’
s fucking press agent, but it seemed the best thing just to tell her the truth,
“
Listen, honey, Kevin
’
s always seeing someone, in fact he
’
s usually seeing two or three of them at once. It
’
s the way he operates. I know for sure there
’
s at least one girl he
’
s dating.
”

She sighed so deeply that I felt bad, but what could I do. The sooner she woke up to the hard reality about Kevin, the sooner she could forget him and the pain he caused her. But I realized that any thought of dating her would be crazy. I have enough trouble always comparing myself to Kevin without having to be with some woman who I knew for sure would be doing it.

I decided to let it all pass, and except for the fact that Holly constantly called me for reports on Kevin, I never thought about her. At first I tried to be understanding and comforting and honest, but it quickly grew tiresome telling her to forget Kevin, that yes he was seeing someone. Once I tried to get rid of her for good by telling her that I was amazed but it looked like he was really serious about the current one and that I was pretty sure that he was going to marry her. I wasn
’
t being heartless
—
it was in Holly
’
s best interest to realize that Kevin was never coming back into her life. And it was in my interest to retire as press secretary to pathological studs.

Of course nothing was farther from the truth. Kevin was seeing two other girls, and had ditched and replaced the one that followed Holly in a very few weeks. At least that one didn
’
t turn up at my door, or I
’
d have had to open up some kind of halfway house for heartbroken broads and I
’
m not into cardiology.

The news of Kevin
’
s impending marriage did seem to cool Holly down, and it seemed I had gotten rid of her at last. Kevin never knew a thing about her calls or our conversations, and I saw no reason to inform him of them because it would just give him more of a swelled head about his stud prowess.

Just before Christmas, Holly called again. It had been several days since our last conversation, and she seemed to have drifted right back into her fuzzy state that refused to let go of Kevin and of me as her only link to him. So I decided to give her a Christmas present, one I hoped would cure her. When she asked me about Kevin and the marriage, I replied tragically,
“
Haven
’
t you heard? It was in all the papers.
”

She warmed up to the potential doom as a soap opera watcher relishes a televised crisis.
“
Heard what?
”

“
I can
’
t believe you didn
’
t read it.
”
I decided to draw it out a little, so as not to shock her all at once, just like a caring physician would.

“
Read what?
”
Holly was sounding more than just curious, more than just concerned.

I put on my best bedside manner, the one I had perfected and then abandoned as a resident.
“
Now just take it easy a minute and sit down.
”
I could hear the silent acquiescence in her voice.
“
Kevin is dead.
”
Here I paused to allow her to react.

“
What?
”
Total disbelief and alarm echoed in that one word.

“
I can
’
t believe you didn
’
t read it. Sherry, the one he was going to marry, she killed him. It seems she found out that he was seeing another girl all along and that he was never sincere about his proposal.
”

“
I can
’
t believe this, Lou. What a tragedy.
”

I could tell that she was trying to maintain her calm, but my keen physician
’
s awareness told me something else
—
she was feeling better. The news of Kevin
’
s death had somehow calmed her down and restored her equanimity. At that point I decided to wrap my present with silver paper.
“
Yeah it was awful. She poisoned him, you know. Incredibly painful death.
”

“
My God! It
’
s just unbelievable. What about the funeral?
”

Oh-oh. I had to think fast or sure enough this broad would be planning memorial services.
“
He was cremated, you know. Ashes shipped back East to family. Whole thing
’
s over, but it sure took its toll on us all.
”

What the fuck! I had missed my chance. Why didn
’
t I get to scatter the ashes. Think of all the places I could put them. How about my rose bushes? I
’
m sure that they could do a lot better with ol
’
Kevin juicing them up. Or I could send a quantity of his ashes to each of the women he ever dated. Nah, I
’
d probably have to buy so many tiny containers that all the septuagenarians would drop dead from the extra weight of carrying around their various medicines in prescription bottles when the pharmacies were sold out of pill boxes. And think of the postage. No, I
’
d just take his remains to a bowling alley in the valley and distribute them throughout the ashtrays.

Holly remained silent for a long pause, in which I had time to dispose of Kevin
’
s ashes appropriately in my fantasies. Eventually we hung up, my mood improved, and Holly on the road to recovery. I had done one good healing for the day and that didn
’
t even count the broads sitting in attendance in my office, waiting for me to plumb their depths.

Kevin
’
s death convinced Holly to forget him or at least she realized that there was no more reason for her to call me, since I never heard from her again. My plan had succeeded, and although it was a great relief not to be bothered by her, the absence of her calls reminded me that I had no woman in my life, at least not my personal life.

Christmas passed in kind of a depressing way, and I even missed Kevin, who by that time had moved into his house. The new year was approaching gloomily and I was disgusted to have nobody with whom to share it. Even an overpriced whore is better than no one on New Year
’
s Eve. I didn
’
t want Tawny back, although I was sure that she was retrievable if I were willing to offer up some kind of expensive present as a sign of my remorse. Instead, I began thinking about taking a trip over the New Year holiday to a glitzy location where I could score at least in a temporary way with some of the partying broads out looking for action.

Before I could book anything, Kevin called and suggested I join him at one of those singles networking things, so I decided to stay in
L.A.
after all. Leave it to Kevin to know of such goings on. Here, I
’
ve been in
Los Angeles
for a dozen years or more and I never heard about singles networking, and Kevin barely arrives and lo and behold he
’
s on all sorts of mailing lists for singles. This is what they mean by a Christmas Miracle.

It seemed like a good idea to gather a bunch of single people together in a fancy location over New Years. Everyone would be there for the same purpose and the likelihood of scoring increased. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that scoring wasn
’
t my real goal. The singles scene had done a number on me. I was tired of meeting beauty queens and treating them to trips and surgeries for nothing. I was tired of paying for sex, because that
’
s all it was. At least if you married the fucking broad, you
’
d still be paying for sex, but you
’
d have someone to take your shirts to the laundry and to use as a tax deduction.

Kevin and I decided to meet at Cutters in
Santa Monica
so that we each could have the use of our cars if necessary. Kevin said that many of the women doubled up when they came to those thinks so that if they met someone, they
’
d be free to go off with him, and therefore it was better all around if each guy had a car. That
’
s what I like
—
women ready, willing, and able, although I didn
’
t get the impression that these broads were out there in search of a good fuck. They were more the respectable types you had to buy dinner for before the Crazy Glue came out from between their knees. Well, so fucking what? I want a woman to have dinner with, not just to fuck, so why not?

I was impressed by Cutters and the open, Atrium style of the place. The outdoor patio was nice, and luckily it was a pretty night so it made it even more romantic. After checking out the place and the broads, I was glad that I had made the effort to buy a new suit and get elevator shoes. What the fuck
—
they only added two inches, but two inches plus is better than two inches minus.

Kevin and I stood around drinking Heinekens out of the bottle like good New Yorkers while everybody else guzzled spritzers and Coronas. Some of the broads were getting a head start on the evening by drinking champagne, a drink I never grew to like
—
just reminds me of ginger ale with vinegar in it. We shared our beers and a rare spirit of camaraderie as we examined the women spread out before us like a banquet of goodies. Kevin is some trip. Listening to him check out and inventory the pluses and minuses of these unknown women in a few glances is amazing, and I have to say I felt like one of Jesus
’
disciples. What the fuck
—
if I am going to learn anything at all about the mating game, there isn
’
t a better teacher anywhere.

A few women came up to us to talk, ostensibly to ask for our business cards so that they could win the little ice breaker game that is part of the evening. The idea is you pull a business card out of a hat and match it with one of the owner
’
s. Of course Kevin and I had refused to contribute our cards to the pool, mainly because Kevin insisted that the women in these events were too aggressive, and he didn
’
t want to have to fend off undesirable ones all night long. Poor Kevin. What a disagreeable task. I could see him with his shield, like some sort of Roman soldier, defending himself vainly against the onslaught of these numerous undesirable, overly aggressive women, who would fling themselves unmercifully at him.

In the meanwhile, I had the benefit of being in the shadow of Kevin
’
s magnetic field, so while all these dames were coming over to talk to him, many of them wound up talking to me, and I have to admit that some of them were pretty nice. Some were pretty attractive too, and I was enjoying myself. Kevin managed always to keep the action and the conversation moving, and in fact, he kept us moving as well, so that we never had to focus too long on any one female or group. With his social graces, they ought to give him a fucking embassy to run.

Kevin went off briefly to dance with one girl
—
she asked him
—
naturally
—
leaving me on my own. I scanned the room and was amazed to spot Tawny standing alone on the other side of the floor. It seemed unfriendly not to speak, particularly as it was clear she had spotted me in the same instance. I had to admit that she looked good, and not at all the worse for wear.

“
Hi, Tawny, how
’
s it going?
”
I asked casually, feeling very little at all.

“
Hello, Lou,
”
she said with such a degree of ice that I thought her breath had caused frostbite on my ear. This was an interesting development. Who would have thought that this little chippee would have had the presence of mind to freeze me? It looked like an interesting challenge, and I toyed with the idea of charming her with my best Kevin imitation until she defrosted and then pushing her into a closet somewhere for a quick fuck. But my good nature got the best of me
—
after all it seemed unfair to fuck with her head, particularly since that was the least desirable part of her body.

I had an inspiration instead. Kevin left his dancing partner and walked toward Tawny and me and I decided to introduce them and watch the action. It seemed like the best reward of all
—
getting the two people you disliked most in all the world together. The introductions took, and I just stood back and watched Tawny melt under the spell of Kevin
’
s effusive charm. And she was no slouch either. Who knew that she could keep up her end of a conversation and still be able to smile? I listed to the banter, never bothering to share in the conversation and totally aware that neither of them felt the slightest fucking obligation to include me. When I sidled off to check out the room, it was barely noticed.