Someone tried to explain who Archie Bunker was to me but I
couldn’t understand what was funny about it or how such a
thing could be on television and I don’t like jokes against
faggots. I sat quiet and drank Stoli all I wanted, day and night.
We all bunked down in different parts o f the huge room. I
made love with a real young guy who reminded me o f a girl I
used to know; and some woman too who I liked. Then
somehow this guy Paul got us all back to N ew York. He had
been in the loft bed with Jill. It was the only real bed and it was
private because it was up so high and behind a structural beam.
They just kept fighting all night so he was aggravated and he
was angry anybody else made love, he said the noise kept him
up. So he wanted to leave and it was follow the leader. It was a
nice Thanksgiving, a real one in a way, as if I lived here, on
this earth, in ways that were congenial to me. The people had
furniture and books and music and food and a big fire and they
talked about all sorts o f things, books, music, everyday
things, and the filmmaker showed her film. I got back to N ew
Y ork, slept where I could, mostly on floors, it could get
harrowing, I would get pretty tired, I wasn’t really understanding how to put an end to it, I felt just perpetually exhausted and stupid, I didn’t see how you get to be one o f
these people who seemed plugged in— food, money, apartment, that stuff. I’d get warm in the bars with the painters. I’d
go downtown and they’d be there and w e’d drink. Sometimes
one o f the guys would hit on me but mostly I said no. I don’t
like painters. They seem very cold to me, the men; and the
women were all tormented like Jill, talked about men all the
time, suffered, drank. I don’t know. I made love with some o f
the women but they were just sort o f servants to the men;
drunk, servile. I fucked some o f the men but they were so
self-involved, so completely cold, in love with themselves, so
used to being mean to whoever was with them. They put this
shit on a canvas and they make it thick or thin and it’s blobs or
something and then they’re known for doing that and they just
do it over and over and then they’re very crass in bed, they’re
just fucking-machines, I never knew men w ho just wanted to
fuck and that’s it, I mean, you couldn’t even say it was a power
trip because it was too cold and narrow for that, greedy and
cold; they really should have just masturbated but they wanted
to do it in a girl. Paul kept making social events and he and Jill
invited me. Then N ew Y ear’s came and Paul had me to this
big dinner; Jill too but it was at his loft, his building I guess, I
couldn’t really grasp that part o f it. I was afraid to go but he
said it would be fine and I didn’t have to do anything or say
anything; I didn’t believe it because usually you had to cook or
clean or something but it was true because this was some
elegant sit-down dinner and there was people serving dinner
and he hadn’t cooked it but someone, some real cook, had. It
