Lissa and I were in downtown Montreal, a Saturday afternoon, January, on Rue University. Snowflakes were sticking to her stocking cap. Adorable. Later, near midnight, we walked arm in arm through dirty streets, lamps obscured (like moths flirting with a bare bulb ), she kissed me. Now , three a.m., La Reine Elizabeth Hotel, room 1701, wind buffets the glass, achromatic light streams through the break in the curtains. She almost glows. I am between her legs. Watching her . She moves fluidly, deliberately.
Entering the hotel, weary from drink and travel, the last thing I expected was to see someone from home. One of my customers from The Packaging Store. The woman he was with was not his wife. The girl I was with was not my girlfriend. The like-minded come together, whether by accident or design. We did not speak.
I stepped into the hotel shop to buy a paper. Lissa followed.
“You know, John Lennon recorded 'Give Peace a Chance' in this hotel.”
“Really?” She sounded bored.
“Yeah, the Montreal bed-in was here. They met the Canadian Prime Minister, the Smothers brothers, I think Mick Jagger. Journalists showed up hoping to film an orgy. I guess they felt cheated.”
“Let's check in.” she replied.
I followed dutifully. This was her trip, after all. She had planned to visit her boyfriend, Davis, who had been attending drug rehab in Montreal. He went over the fence. Checked out early, and was back in Houston pursuing his hobby of I.V. injection of speed, heroin, and cocaine. My invitation was an afterthought. She did not want to waste the tickets.
I met Lissa in 1988, at a Mudhoney/Sonic Youth concert. They were playing Power Tools in downtown Houston. Kim introduced us, introduced me to a cast of characters slated to influence my life for many years. Davis, I met a few months before Lissa. Well, met is a strong word. Kim had pointed him out to me at a party of the young and affluent. He was hiding in a bedroom snorting lines of cocaine off a C.D. case. A couple of months later Kim and I
ended an evening at the apartment Davis shared with his then girlfriend, Michelle. The four of us drank several bottles of cheap wine. Kim and I stayed the night, sleeping on their floor. I had been asleep (passed out) for a while. Davis stumbled in from the room he shared with Michelle, and lay down next to Kim. None of us spoke. He slipped his hand under the thin sheet, inside her. She came quickly, trembling against his palm.
“Your girlfriend has a nice cunt.” he said, returning to his room.
“She's not my girlfriend.” I said to the dark.
We slept in. Had breakfast in the hotel restaurant.
“I'd like to go out today, but my throat is feeling scratchy.” Lissa said through a bite of egg.
“You want to stay in, then? Get used to the cold.”
“Yeah, but I think I'll take a nap. Could you go to the mall downstairs and pick up some NyQuil?”
“Sure. We'll do a shot...