Love On the Fire Escape
If I was another woman, a stronger woman, I’d walk away. I’d summon my scant remaining pride, throw down my apron, and move away from the window once and for all. But my constitution does not permit such measures. I, in my codependent splendor, will continue to court one who, ultimately, can never wholly be mine.
The night Joey and I met, the sky exploded in a spray of stars. Harps played in the background. Oh, how I cherish the memory! My first glimpse of his looming frame flush against my kitchen window. Watching him turn, look into my eyes. Wondering if, given the opportunity, he would gnaw my arm from its socket.
The sweetness of it brings the taste of honey to my mouth.
Nights, I await Joey at my kitchen window like an anxious schoolgirl. I turn down the lights, set my phone volume to low, and sit as still as possible, trying not to breathe. At times I attempt to desert my post; and for brief periods, am even successful. But inevitably, I wander back to the kitchen, telling myself I want an olive or a chip, on the off chance that he’ll be there.
With the exception of sundry family and friends, I expect Joey’s and my relationship to be met with disapproval. Because if he gained entry to my apartment, no one would fare well. My cat, books, Lenox, couch, Joey himself: All would be imperiled. Compounding this are the banging, shuffling and scratching noises in my walls that I really should mention to the super. But, right, wrong, or indifferent, I will make no such call. My guiding principle is, ”What happens on the fire escape stays on the fire escape.”
Admittedly, my courtship with Joey isn’t all roses. On the contrary. Nights lying in wait reacquaint me with weaknesses of character I thought I’d long outgrown. The tendency to idealize. (Joey is perfect in every way. Even his posture.) To catastrophize. (If Joey won’t commit to me, no one ever will. I’ll die alone, on the street.) To exaggerate. (Joey offers far more to global well-being than any other raccoon in the United States.) To make unrealistic promises to the Universe. (If Joey visits tonight, I’ll stop putting my bras in the dryer.)
Some nights, I have to put my hands over my ears and scream, just to get a moment’s respite from my thoughts.
The bottom line is this. Love, infatuation, whatever you want to call it, I’m under Joey’s spell.
And things are about to heat up.
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“Banging, shuffling, scraping noises” —you two keep it down! The children are still up.
But Scroll, we’re just expressing ourselves!
Wow! Raccoon love. Beautifully written prose about a four-legged nocturnal bandit. The mask only adds to its mystique.
I love your description, Lauren. If I’d thought of those phrases myself, I’d have used them.
I’ll never be able to look at a Raccoon the same way again.
You’re so funny, Meleah.
Wow, this was hawt until I figured out you were talking about a raccoon. Then it got white-hawt. It’s like Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner for the new millenium.
P.S. — I don’t know anything about women’s undergarments. Why is it wrong to put your bras in the dryer? You want them dry, don’t you? And, if possible, I assume warm? I’m so confused here.
Ok, Mike. Here’s the deal. Decent bras are expensive, and very high maintenance. Should they not be properly cared for, they can become misshapen, and take on a dented look. Owning even one good bra, with all its demands, is a flippin’ lifestyle choice. I even wrote a post about it.
Does that answer your question?
June, hysterical. I love the no more bras in the dryer!
Thanks, Jodi. And it’s funny how many people are reacting to the bra in the dryer!
great piece. just posted it to my FB timeline. and we both ‘know’ j. bear savo? small, small world.
Thanks, Candace! I’m thrilled you checked out my blog and posted it. And yes, I know J. Bear. He’s a funny man. Hopefully I’ll see you again!
The tendency to idealize, catastrophize, exaggerate and make promises to the Universe all sound too familiar. I guess from one ‘neurotic’ to another, this shouldn’t surprise me! Great post!
)
Thanks so much, Joy! I love meeting fellow neurotics, and am so happy you liked the post. I’d love to see you again!
Are you getting ready to give him a manicure, by the way? Why else would he be soaking his paw?
You’ll find out in the next part, Scroll. Don’t put anything past me.
It sounds like you have it bad, June. Love can be unkind, especially when left on a fire escape. I hope the muskrat fever runs it’s course…or at least you get another blog or two out of Joey…the terminally cute, but rabid as a rat. I got sucked in with this one. Didn’t see Joey as the backyard bandit who is stealing your heart. Great writing.
Yeah, Annie, Love Stinks. But this much I can tell you: that raccoon is probably healthier than I am. His hair is definitely shinier. Thanks so much for the compliment!
OMG June,
I truly was hysterical with laughter reading this! In fact, I have a twitch now and a smile keeps bending my lips. Thank you!!! A wonderful afternoon interlude.
Wonderfully written, of course and I love Joey (from a distance). lol
You made my day, Coco. I’m so glad you liked it. Thanks for the comment!
This is so charming and whimsical. And that Joey is quite a looker. I may fall in love with him myself. I bet he gets around.
That’s exactly the thing, Jayne. He does get around. What’s a girl to do?
”What happens on the fire escape stays on the fire escape.”
Oh June! Do you really think Joey’s not telling all his little raccoon friends about it? No amount of air-dried bras will change his raccoon nature. Don’t ask how I know. Just trust me.
I don’t know what Joey does when he’s not with me, Nicky. That’s the toughest part of it.
As for trust, I would never doubt you. Trust me on that.
That bastard. He told me I was the only one in his life.
I’m laughing, Cmasi. Thanks for coming by!
I would love a visit from such a creature, and would sit at the window with my camera too! No such luck in the UK though. The most we’ve had around our home is a hedgehog
I hoped someone would feel that way, Babs! I know it has risks, but I’m very careful and get such joy from it. I hope you get some more happiness from your hedgehog!
A raccoon? Really? I fear Part II.
Deep breaths, Ben. Deep breaths.
Beautifully written. On a side note, you are one of the strongest women I know.. truly. I can’t comment on your choice .. beware and make sure you leave the door shut, Joey will snack on your cat. I so love reading your words, woman. You’ve got the knack for it.
Thank you for such a nice comment, Brenda. It made my day.