I had a few drinks and shared some laughter with Eleanor’s friends but I really didn’t dig the whole scene. Most of them didn’t even noticed when I raised a timid toast announcing I had to leave but couldn’t hide their surprise when she asked me to wait a minute because she was leaving too. Before any suspicion gained terrain among those minds, none of which really friendly towards me, Eleanor explained she had a flight early in the morning.
“What now?” she asked me as we were leaving.
What about grabbing a sandwich at Gorilla’s?
“You really like Gorilla’s?”
Yeah, they’re just fine. Do you like Dead Kennedys?
“No, not really, but why are you asking me?”
“You really like gorillas” is the first line of one of their songs, one of their best songs…
She picked the book and read the dedication once more. “These all come from lyrics, am I right? Is it supposed to make any sense? You’re not jumping in anybody else’s train, you know I’m not committed to anybody, if that’s what you meant. Or did you mean jumping in my train? well, as you know, I don’t stay put in a relationship…”
Yes, I know. Jumping in your train, as I thought, was like to sneak into your life so we could travel a bit of the road together. Pardon me, I have this thing going on, like I think through the lyrics of the songs I listen to…
“Or books you read? Why this book, what is it you’re suggesting, sexual enlightenment or experimentation?”
No, nothing about books. I don’t even read them anymore. I read through some of the pages of this one. You were talking to Susan last time at Johnny’s, she said she doesn’t like it, when people give her perfume, that it is a very personal choice. You said you feel the same about books.
You were using Anaïs Anaïs…