Strawberry Tattoo by Lauren Henderson

Author:Lauren Henderson [Henderson, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-307-54759-0
Publisher: Crown Publishing Group
Published: 1999-04-12T04:00:00+00:00

It seemed very late when we left the bar, and it was an effort to drag ourselves away. Outside, the orange flashes of streetlights were like streaks of graffiti sprayed across the dingy, sodium-lightened charcoal sky. The New York night, colourless and murky, gave a strangely unhealthy tinge to everyone who passed; it made them into weirdly lit and shadowed caricatures, the occasional flare of neon light across their faces giving an artificial and distinctly unflattering wash of lurid pink or green. No wonder that people kept their heads down and walked fast. I had noticed before that though you might see people in bars dressed with great extravagance, in the street everyone was covered in long overcoats and woolly hats. Display was something kept strictly for the ambience of one’s choice.

I was amazed to realise that it was only nine-thirty. Already I felt tired and ready for bed. The bar had been a black hole in more ways than one, sucking in all my energy and providing me with a mere handful of vodka and tonics in return. But I had promised Kim that I would drop by the bar where she worked, if only briefly, and now I had Lex coming back to the flat with me, too. I felt irritated and scratchy, as if people were forcing their presence on me; all I wanted right now was to jump in a taxi and head for my temporary home, curling up in Nancy’s four-poster with the Comedy Channel on TV, some popcorn, and a bottle of beer.

“Where are we headed?” Lex said passively. The Mr. Cool About Town pose had been abdicated for the time being, not to mention the Randy Seducer. Clearly he had decided that Little Boy Lost was more effective.

“To see this friend of mine. She’s working at a bar near here,” I said. “Second Avenue and Fifth.”

“What’s it called?”

“The Hookah,” I said. “Good name, eh?”

“Bit obvious,” Lex said dismissively.

“No, hookah A H, not hooker E R,” I said.

“Yeah, that’s pretty clever,” he admitted, once he’d worked this out. It took him a little while. I wasn’t going to admit that I’d made the same mistake myself. “They must get a lot of people confused, though.”

“It’s the way you say it.” I experimented with a Laurence-esque British accent, thinking of the way he’d said “my deaah.” “Hookaaah. Hookaaaaaaaah.”

“Didn’t the caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland smoke a hookah?”

“Yeah, that’s right!” I remembered it now. “Sitting on the mushroom with his pipe.”

“That guy Lewis Carroll was so on drugs,” Lex said profoundly. “He must have been stoned from morning to night.”

“When he wasn’t photographing little girls dressing up as hookers.”

“You what?” Lex said blankly.

“Hook-ERS, not hook-AAAAHS.” I was beginning to feel that we were doing a slacker comedy set-piece. Only we should be sitting in a diner. And I would be played by … um, Jennifer Tilly.

“Who would you want to play you in a film?” I said.

Lex thought hard for a while, quite unfazed by my sudden change of subject.

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