Great Somethings

He was the right man. At the wrong time.

  • Only at Byliner
  1. The first night we hooked up, he admitted that I was the first woman he'd been with in a year. I guess this is where I made the mistake of believing this would make him loyal to me. That is never the case. Once a sex-deprived cowboy gets back in the saddle, he's off riding somebody else's steed.

    We met acting together in Long Day's Jour­ney Into Night. As soon as I was introduced to him, I knew I was crushed out. He had curly yellow hair, sunken thin skin, a jagged chin scar, a skinny-ass frame, hunched shoulders and a gap between his two front teeth. He wore a black leather jacket to make himself look bigger, smiled often and laughed a weird loud laugh. He was filled with a scattered-alive energy that one rarely sees these days.

    I went right up to him and shook his hand.

    "You've got a firm grip," he said.

    "Yeah," I said and winked.

    Every rehearsal the two of us would joke around. Make innuendoes. Punch and slap each other playfully. He seemed to like me, yet I wasn't entirely sure because I am solipsistic.

    One night, I got to rehearsal early and found him resting on the green-room couch, practicing his lines. I sat down next to him and read the paper. As I turned the pages, I let them brush against his folded hands. I breathed in deep and let one of my hands rest on his. He immediately put his over mine and we lay/sat there for a long time like that.

    I was nervous, though. This was an en­semble piece and in ensemble pieces you don't prioritize affection. But there I w...