Jun 2, 2014

Restaurants in San Francisco --- This is heaven (teaser)

We're back to "This is heaven," starting (again) with Chapter 2. Having had some time to reflect on the whole thing, we came to the conclusion that we need something to hold all the plot lines together, and the only thing at hand is the relationship between John & Alex. So we are reviewing the extant chapters in order to lend more profile to said relationship.  

Context: Alex and John have left an elated Albert behind, and are on their way back to John's apartment to begin their life ever-after. Alex has survived a serious suicide attempt and struggles with serious amnesia.


We walk in lockstep. It’s already getting busy on the path along the beach. People look at us. Alex whistles again.
“Don Henley?” I ask.
“Don’t look back, you can never look back,” he sings.
“You brown skin is shining in the sun.” I say.

The Zuni café on Market Street, San Francisco, whose menu inspired a few lines in this text

He laughs like he’s been told a real good joke. “This is heaven,” he says.
“You mean it.”
“Yes, I mean it.”
“There’s something in you that seems to remember your depression. Something that feels relief.”
“That would be my brain, wouldn’t it, or what’s left thereof. The lack of oxygen, tell me, I've been dead for how long?”
“Almost four minutes.”
“I’m lucky I can still think. You are lucky I can still think.” He sort of double-checks on me with his grip on my shoulder. “Well, no, let me retract.”
“Well, I am lucky,” I say.
“Let me retract nonetheless.”
“Why?”
“'You are lucky I can still think.' Sounds arrogant. Is arrogant.”
“It’s true, though.”
“Okay, we don’t retract, we apologize. Let me apologize.”

He starts whistling again. Then he slows his steps, hesitates briefly on an introspective note like a TV-chef tasting an involved sauce, then says: “There’s something in me that knows this won’t be my last apology today.”
“This sounds even more arrogant.”
“See, I was right. Let me apologize again.”
He laughs some more, pulls me closer. He’s about to give me a kiss. People take notice. A lonely lady vises his crotch. We resume walking.

“Albert was his name, right?” he asks.

(I don’t answer.)

“You weren’t happy, I could tell,” he says. “At one point you looked like you were being force fed, even though it was more the other way round.”
“Stop it,” I say.
“Is this the thing I do? Morning triangle-sex in the dunes?”

I could tell him now that our first encounter involved morning sex in the dunes as well. Well, I told him already but wisely skipped Maurice’s part in the triangle.
“I told you we met in the dunes, right?”
“So I do this all the time?”
“You do it sometimes, you told me.”
“Sometimes,” he muses.

“Did you like it?” I ask.
“It was a success, at least at the physiological level."
"We came.”
"We came."
 
___________________

"Life at the moment, for me, it’s like entering an alien restaurant. On Mars. Or in San Francisco. You read the menu, you don’t understand. You ask the waiter. ‘You’d love it,’ she says."
____________________


“Perhaps I should apologize again,” (he adds) “but, you know, life at the moment, for me, it’s like entering an alien restaurant. On Mars. Or in San Francisco. You read the menu, you don’t understand. You ask the waiter. ‘You’d love it,’ she says, so you order Bellwether Farms ricotta, Padrón and Shishito peppers, purslane, harissa, cilantro and dandelion greens. Along those lines. Albert orders Bellwether Farms ricotta. Sure, you think, lets serve Bellwether Farms ricotta.”
“Huh?”
“I got somehow mixed up here. You get the gist.” He pauses again. “I still don’t know what Bellwether Farms ricotta is, by the way, let alone cilantro.”
“You can look it up on the internet.”
“Sure, let’s look it up on the internet. What are Alex's preferences?” 


He pauses, fumbles for his i-thing, and googles ‘What are Alexander Iglesias’s preferences?’
“Only ten million, one hundred thousand results,” he reads. “I’m not the only Alex Iglesias, apparently. I really need your help. I need to figure out myself.”
“You’ll ditch me once you've figured out yourself.”
“No-no,” he says, “don’t say that. This is heaven. I'm your angel, you are mine.”



Are you still there? Then you'll possibly like the GREEN EYES. The first part is out now, available as Kindle book on Amazon, under this link:


Night Owl Reviews
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Go here for the previous teaser, here for the next one, and here for a choice of chapters of the Green Eyes. 

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