June 2nd, 1973

Dear Diary:

It is 1:00 o’clock AM– and I am nearly dead drunk.

a-root-i-toot-toot

and I just got home via the Ben Bow

Yes, my dears, the Ben Bow was in full swing tonight. Rita was tending bar like I have never seen a bar tended before. Yes, indeed– and she was wearing a blouse with great puffed-laced sleeves.

I walked all the way over there. Hallelujah. I had forgotten the joys– the personal highs of walking and breathing deep. Ah, but I just can’t forget that I’m breathing such shit. 

Listen– I talked to my mother tonight. I called to see if she had gotten my check. She had. Wow– her rap– she being Natalie– the same Natalie that impresses me– intrigues me– that same Natalie just depressed the hell out of me tonight. It was a typical “call home and get depressed” phone call. The smallness of her life depressed me. The mean-ness– the intensity of her life’s energy– a check-out produce girl at the Piggly Wiggly at 42 years of age.

Cheeriest God–

Anyway– what happened is that Richard and I had a semi TO-DO about our RELATIONSHIP.

and it sort of ended with him going to the party down the hall and me going out to call my mother– not getting my mother. I knew if I tried to go home, I’d have to pass the Chicago party– I entered the foyer and heard Richard going full blast–

I felt so wrong and out of place–

I started walking and walked all the way to the Ben Bow

my womb

my womb

and you wouldn’t believe the sexy number they have as a waiter/bouncer of sorts.

and Rita is the barmaid and a fat ugly girl is the waitress.

and I am in love with the waiter.

and it was so nice to be out and on my own. 

Listen– monogamy simply is not the game for me.