Straight Man

where my ex-wife is concerned, sometimes the midfifties even. Last week, in the hot tub with the local press, I’m in the low to midfifties tops, which is where I like to be, because in the fifties you got options. You can zig, you can zag. There’s the possibility of dignity. And you know my motto.”
    I smile. “Dignity first?”
    “I’ve told you this before?”
    “A lucky guess.”
    “But here’s the thing,” he says again. I can’t tell if it’s the same thing or a different thing than the one he was getting at before. “You’re cruising along in the midfifties, you’re in the hot tub with the local press, which has terrific knockers, and suddenly, for no reason that makes any sense, you’re back in the exceptional range, affection-wise, for a woman you haven’t even seen in over a decade and who’s probably gotten sloppy fat, for all you know, this woman you meant to spend the rest of your life with—you even said so, at some point, in front of witnesses—and what you’d like to know is, Why now? I mean, you’re in the middle of an important interview here, and you don’t want to be so exceptional anymore. You like it down in the fifties, the sixties, modestly above average, nothing to be ashamed of.”
    “So what are you advising here?”
    He looks at me like I’m stupid but fills our glasses again. “Who said anything about advice? Pay attention. The subject is the mystery of human affection. I’m talking statistics. I’m talking fine calibrations of the human heart, done scientifically. You, personally, I have no idea about. You said you were half in love. I’m just trying to clarify your statistical thinking. I don’t even know who you’re half in love with.”
    “Would that matter? Statistically?”
    “No,” he admits. “But I’m curious what kind of woman a man like you might be half in love with.”
    “You know Billy Quigley’s daughter Meg,” I hear myself say.
    “And who could blame a man like you for this?”
    “And there’s my secretary, Rachel.”
    “A fine woman for a man like you to be half in love with. I understand.”
    “And there’s Bodie Pie, over in Women’s Studies.”
    “A lesbian,” Tony remarks. “You know she’s a lesbian?”
    “That means she can’t be half in love with me, not that I can’t be half in love with her.”
    “True,” Tony concedes the logic of my distinction. “But this is where dignity comes in.”
    I glance over at him.
    “It’s the futility I object to, not the lifestyle,” he explains. “I’d say the same if you told me you were half in love with a socket wrench. I think your problem may be that you’re right at fifty percent. That’s neither fish nor fowl. Speaking of which, have you had dinner?”
    I confess that I have not.
    “I know a little place in town that has good food. And here’s something that may interest you,” he adds, holding up the bottle, now empty, except for half a finger of murky liquid sloshing at the bottom. “If you know how to ask, they’ll serve you alcohol.”
    “We’re too drunk to drive.”
    “It’s too far to walk. Besides, there’s nothing between here and the restaurant but trees.”
    “It’s trees I’m worried about,” I tell him. “They don’t move when you hit them.”
    “Just follow me,” Tony suggests.
    “I bet they aren’t even serving. It’s going on nine o’clock.”
    “You’ve lived in Pennsylvania too long. In New York, civilized people are only now beginning to think about dinner. Only fundamentalist Christians have eaten their evening meal.”
    “They too have a lot to offer God.”
    “Nonsense. They believe God has a lot to offer them. Get your coat. Maybe we’ll run into one of the women you’re half in love with.”
    We take both cars. Our speedometers do not break the twenty-five-mile-per-hour barrier all the way to Evergreen’s, which by Railton standards is a pretty decent restaurant. There aren’t many, which accounts for why on any given night you always run into people you know. From the foyer on this given night I see June and Teddy eating dinner in the third booth. I’m surprised to see them out in public together, given the scene that took place between June and Orshee in the hallway of Modern Languages, and even more surprised to seeTeddy quietly reach across the table and take June’s hand. On the other side of the room, Paul Rourke and the second Mrs. R. appear to be waiting for their check, the second Mrs. R.