By Jesse Marx
By Chris Parker
By Jake Rossen
By Jesse Marx
By Michelle LeBow
By Alleen Brown
By Maggie LaMaack
By CP Staff
Abandoned by my girlfriend--who was fucking a Swedish ski instructor in Sweden at the time--I spent the early part of the holiday in a German bratwurst joint listening to various hipster bands mock the lederhosened wait staff. Then, I figured, I'd take my friend Brent, an underappreciated grad-school actor, home, where no doubt Gareth had something exciting and decadent planned for our amusement.
What Gareth had planned, in fact, was a visit from a young woman now living in San Francisco who was sweet on him--a girl named Liesl. "Matt, you don't mind, do you?" he earnestly asked.
Young Brent and I passed a bottle of five-dollar André Champagne back and forth as Gareth knelt before the fire, twanging out "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes" on acoustic guitar as Liesl rubbed his knees, shooting me curare darts with her eyes. Meanwhile, Tabitha, an aspiring director, also tried to make time with Gareth. A nondrinker, Tabitha got boozier as the evening went on. Liesl went from knee rubbing to full-on dry humping. Tabitha worked toward a trio con brio, but wasn't managing to cut in on the Gareth-Liesl action.
Gareth had forgotten to pay the cable so even the TV was dead. No Dick Clark to distract me and my actor friend tonight.
Another bottle of André went ker-pop. The trio headed for the bedroom. The comical sound of ratcheting bedsprings was matched by the childlike yelp of Liesl's orgasms--suddenly I remembered whole lines of Anais Nin! Eventually, this sound was matched by the canine rumble coming out of Tabitha, who emerged from the bedroom on hands and knees, senselessly crawling toward the fireplace.
"I gah, I gah-a frow up, only there ain' no more," Tabitha burped, then went into one, two, maybe ten bouts of dry-heave hysterics.
"Why do people not like me?" Tabitha asked, crawling back to what was now a closed and locked bedroom door. More bedsprings, more yelping.
Young Brent turned to me with woozy eyes. "Why do you think it is," he asked, "that we can't pass out?"
A friend reports that Liesl is now a licensed family therapist in Marin, specializing in cases of sexual abuse.