Raw Passion

...fins to the left, fins to the right/ and you’re the only bait in town....

In New Orleans I once watched a cigar roller, hoping, hoping, hoping that the guy rolling would make the Gookie. He didn't, but I think of him now, as there is a certainty of me making a purchase today, as there was a certainty of my NOT purchasing a cigar.

She piqued his interest. Well, why not? Bibi is blonde, stacked, vivacious, pretty, and dresses in the cutest outfits. She walks into my house wearing a post-separation, pre-divorce "Over Him" tee shirt. (I whisper to Mags, 'most men her husband's age are looking to trade up. How do you trade up from HER?' Mags shakes her head.)

She piques his interest. Does that make him kinky? Is it? Am I, because I like it?

My first time was with a man I adore and don't see often enough. Another time was with someone who makes me giddy. And now, Hawk wants to try it.

What can I say but Yes? Yes! Yes!

It's my favorite word.

Careless, he lifts the rice-covered nori, wipes beneath it, flips it, slices avocado for a third layer. He slices pink fish very thin and adds it alongside the avocado, then coaxes the rectangle into a cylinder. This he slaps onto a tray where it waits for more of its kind. Every move he makes with his left hand, he follows with a swipe of damp cloth in his right. When there are three sesame sprinkled tubes, he flops them back on the counter to hack into slices with a huge knife. They go out on a slab of wood. On the other counter, the other chef arranges his slices in a plastic container, which must be mine.

I have been watching the wrong man. But the right one's waiting at home, ready for something new.


(Fins; Jimmy Buffet)