His Wife Leaves Him by Stephen Dixon

Author:Stephen Dixon
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Fantagraphics
Published: 2013-07-03T04:00:00+00:00

He thinks the second date went something like the following. Anyway, he’s gone over it plenty of times in his head and also written about it and they talked about it, each confirming what the other had to say or in some parts giving a slightly different version of it, so it’ll be close. He called the next night and said “Hi, it’s Martin, how are you doing?” and she said “Fine, thanks, and you?” and he said “Great, couldn’t be better,” and she said “That’s good. Anything special happen to make you feel that way?” and he said “No, I just feel good; head, body, the works. I usually feel good. No, that’s not true, but also the writing went well today, so that helped. I wrote the first draft of a new story, and one I like, which means I have something to work on that I want to tomorrow and don’t have to worry I’ve nothing to write. Listen, I had a nice time with you yesterday; I hope you did too,” and he gave her time to speak and she said “It was very pleasant.” “Good. So I think we spoke about this. Would you like to meet again, maybe for a drink and, if you’re up to it, dinner after, but at a different place?” and she said “Why at a different place?” and he said “Well, you know; first we can meet at a bar near you, if that’s convenient; and then think about a restaurant, because a bar, I don’t think, is where you’d like to eat,” and she said, “I see. Sure,” and they arranged to meet at six this Sunday at the West End, a short walk from her building, and then, if she doesn’t still have a lot of preparing to do for her class the following day, have dinner somewhere else. Once they settled on when to meet, he got off the phone quickly. He’d run out of things to say and ask her and she wasn’t asking him anything either or volunteering to talk about herself and what she did that day and so on and he didn’t want there to be just silence on the phone. She might think “What, we’ve nothing to talk about already?” he thought. So he said “Terrific; the West End. Six, day after tomorrow; I know where it is. And at a table, not the oblong bar, if they still have it, which isn’t conducive for talk,” and she said “Okay, see you then, Martin,” and they said goodbye. He got to the bar first, right at six, looked around, she wasn’t there, sat at a two-table and ordered a beer. Domestic? Foreign? Just get the cheapest draft, he thought. Doubts he’ll finish it, mainly because he doesn’t want to have to pee soon after, as he did with the coffee at the drugstore. She might think he has a bladder problem or something and he also doesn’t want her thinking about his peeing so much.

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