Mr. Right Is Dead: Stories by Rona Jaffe

Author:Rona Jaffe
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781504008433
Publisher: Open Road Distribution

He Can’t Be Dead, He Spoke to Me

We are distressed to learn that the sound of a human voice and the warmth of a human body can now be replaced by a machine. Called the Mother Machine, it is used in some nurseries; but adults need not feel left out, for soon science will find a machine companion for them. In the meantime there is a readily available substitute, which goes by the brand name of the Acquaintance, the Date, and sometimes (although the Better Business Bureau may eventually prosecute) the Friend. This product needs very little care, only occasional feeding, and is self-powered. When it starts to run down it can be plugged into any outlet in a lonely room for a week or ten days and it will be as good as new. Information on where to obtain the Acquaintance, the Date, or the Friend may be obtained by writing to …

It was half past ten when the three of them finally made it to the restaurant in the Village, just before the kitchen closed. She was a rich girl who looked like a dancer, he was a vice president of a small advertising agency who looked like a vice president of a large advertising agency, and her friend was an actress who looked like a silent-movie star. They liked the way they looked. He was slightly drunk; the two girls were sober. For that reason, the girls were still boisterous and giggly, and he was being careful and precise. After four drinks he moved the hands as if he were smoothing a skirt. Her friend thought he was queer, but she knew he was not; it was just that he did not like anyone—not men, not women, not children, not animals. He liked bourbon and martinis.

She and her friend ordered complete dinners, he ordered a drink and a bottle of wine. He was on a diet and had lost ten pounds, but he had ten more to go. She had known him for two years, and she had known the actress six months, but she knew the actress.

It was Saturday night, which was of no importance to any of them. But to others in the resturant it was very important. The restaurant was a long, narrow room with a bar at the front and tables in the back, the two parts separated by a coat rack and a partial wall on which hung an open pay phone. The three of them were the only diners, but the bar was full.

“We’re going to meet my friend here at eleven,” he said. “When you meet the girl he’s going with, don’t be shocked.”

“Why should we be shocked?” she said.

“You’ll see. She has this talent for millionaires. One millionaire, she only has to take a walk around the reservoir with him every Wednesday afternoon and he gives her seven hundred dollars a week. She doesn’t do anything else with him. No sex.”

“A reservoir freak,” she said.

“Oh, my God, I’m so hungry,” the actress said.

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