You Can Keep a Good Girl Down: Part II Quid Pro Quo

He led me to the bedroom. Offered me a t-shirt. I lay down on the bed. After brushing his teeth, he lay down next to me. Neither of us moved. I thought he was just going to go to sleep when he took my hand and put it on his crotch. He began to move it. I thought it was foreplay, until, well, you know. There is, I believe, an unsaid contract that sexual contact is a quid pro quo kind of deal. For example, if I give a blow job, I expect to be paid in kind at some point. Not that I don’t enjoy giving blow jobs. It’s just unfair if I serve your needs and get no reciprocation. None. The next morning, he got up and dressed. I showered. He offered me a banana for breakfast while I stared out the window. “There’s something I want to tell you.” Oh lord, I thought, he has a girlfriend. That’s what it always is. “I think you need to see a doctor.” “What?” “Well, I’ve been thinking about it and with all the advances that medical science has made there is no reason why you couldn’t be better.” Now, the night before I had been restrained because I thought if I played dumb I might get some. But now I had played dumb, been used, not gotten ANY satisfaction, and been insulted on top of it. “What was the name of the cancer I had?” “What?” “What was the name of the cancer I had?” “A lymphoma?” “You know, I’ve been living with this disability for the last twenty years. You heard about this disease twelve hours ago and you can’t even remember the name of it, but you presume to tell me how to deal with it. And don’t bother to call me because if you think I want to see you again, YOU need the doctor.” I marched out of the room. Later when I told my friend Vinnie Whispers about the “date”, he said, “Damn you’re like Jack Palance in Shane. ‘Pick up the gun.’” “I don’t want to shoot him. He would be a waste of fucking bullets. I want to pistol-whip him. I want him to go to work tomorrow with a huge fucking black eye and have to explain that he got pistol-whipped by a four foot six disabled Jewish girl.” “You will tell me if I ever piss you off, won’t you?” he asked. “You’ll know when you find yourself blindfolded in an unmarked van.”