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"Not really. Why?"
"There's like a loft owned by Sam Rivers, a great avant garde horn player among other things, and he and his band do shows there. It's pretty amazing."
"Maybe sometime," Jenny sort of agreed. "You know the Kitchen?"
"A performance space in SOHO," Joe nodded. "Who's there?"
"Some dance group. I've seen a couple modern dance shows and I thought they were cool the way they moved more naturally than all this training in ballet, and much more emotionally."
"I had a girlfriend who studied dance at Bard who definitely radiated emotion when she danced and created some amazing choreography."
"What happened?"
"She had an ex that got kind of scary when she broke up with him and she thought I was getting too clingy and worried it would be the same shit again."
"Were you?"
"I was a bit enraptured by her, so probably. When's the show?"
"It says continuous, starting at seven and admitting audience until 11."
"Sounds different."
"Yeah. It's called the Cocktail Party."
"Want to go?"
"Okay."
Along the way downtown, Joe showed Jenny sights he'd been shown when first coming down there with friends from Bard, like the turning cube in Cooper Square, and things he'd learned on his own. "That's St Mark's Church," he told her at the end of St Mark's Place, after getting a one hitter at a head shop and buying her a used, more weather appropriate jacket from Trash and Vaudeville where he'd told her he always bought his black jeans uniform. "I've seen readings there. It's supposedly where Patti Smith first performed with her guitarist. And I actually read my poetry one time."
"Really?"
"I was ridiculously nervous," Joe laughed.
Later they passed CBGBs and Joe pointed out the flophouse above it. "I thought about staying there when I first moved here," he told her. "I guess I wasn't quite that desperate."
He didn't recognize the punks milling around, but he did recognize a couple across Bowery. "Come on," he insisted, and they crossed the street.
Julie and Jim were artists and frequent Max's patrons, having gone there since the infamous back room days where Warhol's freaks congregated. They owned a loft across from CBs and were, as they often were, including their visits to his former employer, observers and critiquers of the ways of current youth. They were in their mid-thirties, slim and intense.
After introductions, they went up to the couple's loft to smoke pot. Jenny lifted from her purse a square of paper containing cocaine his Bard friends had gifted her and everyone did a couple lines, leaving just enough for Joe and Jenny to enjoy later. They also drank some nice white wine.
Apologizing for their quick visit and thanking them for the use of their place, Joe left with Jenny and they headed to a small green space with a Picasso sculpture at its center, Joe having Jenny walk around it to fully appreciate it.
They crossed Houston and entered SOHO, with its artist lofts and galleries and somewhat pretentious wine bars. At the building that housed the Kitchen, they went upstairs, paid the five dollar fee, was handed a couple sheets of paper and asked to speak the words on them when they entered. Also to feel free to talk.
The door squeaked rather loudly, to the point Joe realized it was probably some recording of a squeaky door, and all eyes were on them, both the audience sitting on folding chairs at one side or within the performance space on plush chairs, a couple loveseats and a couch, and the performers, distinguished by their tight outfits made to look like fancy suits and bow ties for the men and various darker color dresses for women, the skirt part nearly transparent allowing views of the flesh colored leotards beneath.
The paper had numbered sayings so that it was a sort of dialogue between Joe and Jenny, arguing about coming to this party, Joe for and Jenny against. The dancers danced in a group of four and three and two, with one solo, their movements exaggerated gesticulations which actually reminded Joe of the style of his ex-girlfriend. He recognized the soloist who had been a senior at Bard when his ex had been a sophomore there when they dated. She'd been a sort of mentor to Lindy, the ex.
Carol, tall and slim, with auburn hair and quite pretty, not quite model beautiful, though she certainly had the body for it, guided Joe and Jenny to a love seat sweepingly, hugging Joe before he sat and whispering to him, "Good to see you, Joe," and kissing his ear!
The bottom of the sheets said, "Please talk," so Joe and Jenny did, Joe mostly talking about knowing Carol and about Bard, while they watched the various configurations of the dancers, the group of two each time performing pas de deux taking focus for the rest of the dancers as if they reacted to them and gossiped with each other about them. Carol was always odd woman out, attempting to join groups but being ostracized, and even pulling dancers from groups, both men and women, and attempting her own pas de deux but being, in the end, rejected.
A trio played in the corner, viola, cello and electric piano that sounded like an acoustic piano. It was slightly off party music, slightly dissonant, slightly edgy, and the dancers danced sometimes to the rhythm and sometimes against it, Carol almost always the latter. When new audience arrived, the music stopped, recommencing after the recitations.
At the end of the show, Carol stood on a hopefully sturdy table, her face full of despair and her body violently moving, the music suddenly loud and shrill. The other dancers noticed, but then ignored her and the music followed their lead. Carol crumpled down, making herself as small as possible while the lights faded to black.
The lights rose to the dancers in a line in front of the table, Carol at center, bowing while the audience applauded, ending up standing by the end of the applause, and with a last bow, the dancers took hands and exited through a back door.
"I'd like to meet her," Jenny exclaimed.
The woman who'd taken their money made the choice for Joe. "Come with me," she said, and opened for them the same back door.
It wasn't a dressing room which Joe expected, but a back entrance to the space, stairs leading down to the street, a hallway leading to other back entrances, and a stairway going up to the next floor. Carol stood waiting for them.
"Hi Carol," Joe grinned at the lovely, sweaty redhead. "This is Jenny."
"You were great!" Jenny exclaimed.
"Thanks. Mind if I hug your boyfriend?"
"He's not..."
"Even better," Carol laughed, hugging Joe. "I've always wanted to do this...and more," she whispered.
"Uhm," Joe responded.
"Come on upstairs unless you object to seeing nearly naked dancers," she invited them, taking Joe's hand and pulling him to the stairs, only releasing it when she hopped up them, Joe and Jenny following.
More fate on this mostly fateful day: Joe recognized the loft apartment, a former lover.
"Is Monica here?" Joe asked.
"You know her?" Carol asked.
"We were a thing for a while."
"Come sit," Carol invited them to sit on the familiar bed, Carol sitting between them. Joe enjoyed the naked breasts on display and presumed Jenny enjoyed seeing the supple torsos of the male dancers. No one seemed to object to their gaze, probably used to it with each other. Their genitalia were covered.
"You still have that Bolex?" Carol asked.
"I do," Joe responded.
"And you're still writing poetry?"
"Less so recently. New York has become a distraction. In fact I haven't gone to a show besides a rock show in probably over a year, just work and sleep and get high basically."
"I received a generous grant from the NEA," Carol told him.
"The National Endowment for the Arts?" Joe asked.
"Yep."
"Congratulations."
"Thanks."
"For this show?"
"This was more of a resume piece for them. I documented the rehearsal with a videographer. I proposed a piece dancing to poetry with two projectors lighting the dancers. The taste I submitted was of your voice reading your poem and some family movies I had projected on me."
"How...?" Joe started.
"I recorded your reading at Bard. I've had a secret crush on you Joe, but Lindy got to you first, the bitch, and ended up ditching you in the end. But she did say you're a generous lover."
"He is," Jenny agreed.
"And you're not boyfriend and girlfriend?"
"We just met," Jenny explained.
"We literally bumped into each other," Joe chuckled. "Today actually."
"My birthday!" Jenny grinned. "He's the best birthday present ever!"
"Were you going to use my reading?" Joe asked.
"The poem maybe, but with a better recording. I couldn't find out where you were..."
"I don't have an official address," Joe realized. "The phone's under a former roommate's name and unlisted anyway."
"I have always believed in the connectivity of the universe," Carol admitted.
"Totally," Jenny agreed. "Joe and I are from next door Twin Cities' suburbs."
"And I keep bumping into people I know," Joe added. "A good friend I knew from Golden Valley, that Twin Cities suburb, ending up going to Bard, and then I bumped into him, not literally, near my East Village apartment. And there's been others, especially from Bard being here, but also Golden Valley. But today seems to have to have gone above and beyond."
"No shit," Carol laughed. "But I had this weird feeling putting it out there, you'd come."
"Perhaps the weirdest part is I wouldn't have if I hadn't collided with Jenny!"
"Speaking of which, do you need dancers?" Jenny asked.
"You dance?" Carol asked.
"Just ballet."
"We can loosen you up."
"Cool!"
"We have one more show here tomorrow, and it will be the last for Sam. She's a little taller, but not as busty. We can make adjustments."
"Which one's Sam?" Jenny asked.
"The one giving us dirty looks," Carol muttered. And indeed a petite dark haired woman probably a couple inches taller than Jenny stared at them before pouncing away, her naked breasts barely bouncing. "But she's the one who slept with everyone and their mother."
"You're...?" Jenny started.
"Bisexual. We liked to share, but when she found other girls to play with...What about you, Jenny?"
"One of the ballerina's..."
"Cool."
"We'd mess around, especially after we'd get high, but she'd stop things when it got too far."
"And you?"
"It felt like coitus interruptus," Jenny blushed.
"For you?"
"For her too I'd guess, but yeah. It was frustrating, but sex has always been frustrating."
"Until you met Joe."
"Yep."
"A most high recommendation."
"Deserved."
"Glad to hear. Let me get showered and dressed, probably a cold shower by now." Carol got up and walked to the bathroom, collecting her clothes along the way. No preview of coming attractions, but Joe was fine with that.
By then most of the dancers were getting dressed, Carol pausing for a word for each one, most smiling afterwards. They started leaving after that. Joe didn't see Sam but heard her yelling in the bathroom and then silence. Minutes later, Sam walked out naked and showered. She glowered at Joe and Jenny while dressing. The two ex-lovers passed eachother when Sam headed towards the door, only the briefest of glances, both showing tense expressions, Carol also fully dressed in loose blue jeans and a mostly green patterned flannel shirt, her thick auburn hair damp and loose, no longer restricted by the scrunchie she'd worn before. A somewhat long, lined denim jacket finished her casual look.
"What were your plans?" she asked when she came to the bed.
"I thought we'd go up to Max's and check out a punk band," Joe answered.
"Can we dance?" Carol asked.
"There's mostly long tables and chairs, but maybe back by the bar?"
"Sounds good."
"You think I could stash my coat here?" Jenny asked.
"You were planning to come to the show tomorrow."
"Of course."
"Monica's off seeing her kids," Carol said.
"Montreal," Joe nodded.
"You do know her."
"I did, but I ended up too young and stinky."
"Stinky?" Jenny asked.
"I was still bussing and dishwashing then and smelled like it when I'd head down after work."
"Not very romantic," Carol squinched up her face.
"I guess not."
Alone in the loft, they smoked some weed and finished the coke.
In the taxi they grabbed on West Broadway, Carol asked Joe, "You coming too?"
"To your show? Of course."
"Could you bring your camera?"
"Just three minute rolls," Joe told her.
"Could you change them? Maybe in the back area?"
"I suppose I could do it at Monica's."
"If not, just shoot towards the end."
"I'll come early and see what would work."
"That would be great."
"Which poem are you using of mine?" Joe asked.
"The one about escaping the family home."
"I can relate," Jenny muttered.
"Tell me," Carol insisted.
Jenny did.
"Holy shit," Carol reacted. "Could you incorporate that into you poem?"
"It's my experience," Joe countered. "Unless..."
"Interview the dancers. Find out their experiences leaving home, though three of them still live there, one in New Jersey and another a Manhattanite and a third from Queens."
"The one from New Jersey commutes?" Joe asked.
"Just over the 59th Street Bridge in Englewood, but he's mostly staying with his boyfriend I think."
"Where did you escape from?" Jenny asked Carol.
"Another Midwesterner, from Nebraska, the land of the generic American accent."
"So a happy escape?"
"My folks are rich, so I was comfortable, too comfortable, too boring for words."
"Too bad," Joe smirked and they laughed.
At Max's, the gatekeeper/fee taker let them in for free. A former roommate of Joe's, he'd turned him onto the place, and Joe actually took over the back room from him.
The Sic Fucks played straight ahead rock and roll with an attitude, your usual punk rock band basically. The large, heavyset guy up front had charisma and could move, but his scream/singing left a lot to be desired. Nevertheless they were fun and Carol and Jenny enjoyed dancing to them, Joe mostly enjoying watching the lovely dancers and their moves.
The bartender, a tall pretty boy with long curly brown hair gave them free drinks and no one kicked them out with the rest of the audience, so they had a last drink with Joe's ex employees, two attractive blonde waitresses, one especially beautiful, a long time friend of Johnny's, the other a bit of a bad girl with an attitude, but funny as hell. One of the busboys from downstairs joined them, a good friend of the bad girl and as avid a drug taker as she was, joined them. The bartender, a coke dealer on the side, layed out some long lines for everyone, though the beauty, Anne decided against it.
"We're headed to the Empire Diner," Anne offered.
"Thanks but..."Joe started.
"I could eat," said Carol.
"I guess we're coming too," Joe chuckled.
It took two cabs to get them across town, others joining them from downstairs. Anne sat with them, all four getting the silly chili sundae which resembled a sundae in a parfait glass but with chili for the ice cream, sour cream for the whipped cream and a cherry tomato on top.
"You seen John?" Anne asked Joe.
"I copped for him and Waldo," Joe told her.
"I thought you were off that shit."
"I just did the copping," Joe shrugged. "You worried about him?"
"Always," Anne chuckled. "He stayed with me last night. I just wasn't sure if he expected to do the same tonight."
"Are you two...?" Jenny started.
"Nah. Just friends. He comes by when he's on the outs with the wife, likes my crapper or something the way he smells it up," Anne laughed.
"You don't have a boyfriend or...?" Carol asked.
"I'm private, girl," Anne frowned.
"No shit," said Joe, causing Anne to join in the laughing.
"Yeah," Anne finally said. "I let out more than I have in years. Too many want to get friendly and get into my business when it's none of theirs."
"Got it," Carol said.
"What's Johnny like?" Jenny asked.
"He's sweet when he's not high, which isn't a lot," Anne chuckled. "But really, in the morning, he's like this really beautiful guy, you know?"
"Sensitive," Jenny offered.
"Yeah. Got to numb himself," Anne agreed.
"Joe too," said Carol. "Is that what you meant about getting high?"
"It is," Joe replied. "It got to be all about copping."
"Living in a rock and roll world," Anne added.
"Pretty much."
"I avoid that part of it, and have somewhat of a life."
"Doing?" Jenny asked.
"Shopping of course! I just found this great coat recently." She wore a white faux fur coat which looked amazing on her.
"Definitely cool," Jenny agreed.
"There's some great second hand stores in the East Village. I think I got some cards. They should pay me for advertising!" She handed Jenny a couple cards.
"Thanks!"
"You guys headed to the afterhours club? I could use some dancing after all this shit I ate."
"I hadn't..." Joe started.
"Sounds fun," said Carol.
"I guess so," Joe chuckled.
"Share a cab?"
"Of course."
The old cab driver didn't seem to mind when the gorgeous blonde waitress sat next to him on the journey down. She had him stop on Fourteenth Street and they walked the rest of the way to the discreet door.
Being midweek, it wasn't all that busy. Johnny and Waldo and the rest of their band were there though. Anne said hi to John, conferring with him briefly before joining another guy, a fairly handsome man with a goatee with a small contingent of women at his table. The man pulled out a bag showing Anne hair product.
Meanwhile Joe bought himself and his ladies some drinks, bringing them theirs while they danced in the small, disco ball lit and mirrored dance area, and once handing them off, joined Johnny.
"Good shit," Johnny said. "Got a dime left."
"Fuck you," Joe shook his head.
"Then maybe you could get me off?" Johnny practically whined.
"Sure."
They went into the small and not all that clean toilet together. It took time to find a spot on Johnny's overused arms, but finally Joe did. "I should hire you as my doctor," Johnny murmured, lost in a nod.
"Whatever," Joe chuckled, cleaning the syringe and putting things back in Johnny's little leather kit bag.
Johnny's comment felt like a jibe though, like Joe was too stiff, too in his head, too stick up his butt to really fit into the loose, street smart scene that surrounded him. The way he talked especially, careful, intellectual, though not he didn't think pretentious. That would mean he was trying to be somehow better or different than who he was, better than anyone else, and he certainly didn't feel that way. He was just being himself which happened to be in his head with a stick up his butt.
Despite his self-conscious tightness, he let loose on the dance floor, getting into the music even when it transformed via Hot Legs to disco which he thought, though designed for dancing, was too four-on-the floor to really swing. The length of his sweeping arms took some space, but since only the three of them danced, not too much, and after amusing the ladies with his antics, he quieted down, danced more with them, becoming more sensual and sexual, rubbing against them and getting rubbed. Flesh got excited for all three.
"We should go," Carol finally decreed. The other two had no reason to disagree. They drank down their drinks resting on a nearby table and left without goodbyes.
"Where to?" Joe asked.
"My place isn't far," Carol told them.
It ended up a couple blocks north of Washington Square Park, a really nice apartment. "My folks wanted me safe," Carol explained. "I told them this was safest."
She embraced Joe and they kissed for the first time before she moved to Jenny, the kiss lasting much longer, with hands eagerly moving between bodies to undo buttons and remove clothing, pausing the kiss as necessary. Soon they were sans tops and Jenny removed Carol's bra.
