“I don’t have any plans, per se.”
“Cheers.”
“Sláinte.” We drank the shots.
“I forgot I have to be somewhere in a few minutes and it usually takes about an hour. But after that I’m free. Would you want to hang out with me?”
“I like to hang out. Where do you have to go?”
“You sure you want to know?”
“Yeah. I definitely want to know.”
“I have my therapist, but don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not crazy.”
“You sure?”
“Well, now it seems crazy but seriously I’m sane.”
“Crazy people never think that they’re crazy. you realize this, right?” Of course the object of my most recent obsession is certifiable. It all made sense. Why else would she have any interest in hanging out with me if she wasn’t fucking nuts.
“I just don’t have any close friends here to talk to.” I thought about how I don’t share my feelings with any of my closest friends. “Her name is Dasha, she’s Russian. She is like a one sided friendship and she lets me vent to her about the things that bother me. I like her. I have trust issues so I feel better confiding in a professional.”
“I have those.”
“What?”
“Trust issues.”
“Do you still want to see me later or did I ruin it?”
“I don’t think we should but we will.”
“You’re so sweet,” she said. “I hope this isn’t too forward of me to ask. Do you have an STD?”
“Excuse me. Like at the moment?”
“I’m just kidding. I don’t know where that came from. I’ll ask Dasha. Have you ever seen a shrink?”
“Yeah. Unsuccessfully. Twice. Once or twice when I was like 12 years old and for a handful of sessions like three years ago at the behest of an ex-girlfriend.”
“And it wasn’t for you?”
“Not so much. I think the first time I was too young to participate and have any breakthroughs. I didn’t want to be there. I was shut down and very angry and being forced to see a psychologist only pissed me off more. The other time I was willing to try and it just seemed futile. I wanted to improve how I felt then. I wanted to be a better person and I thought maybe it could help. It didn’t. But maybe Dasha is superior to the ones I saw.”
“You realize you haven’t revealed anything personal about yourself at all. Super vague, man. Are you all sorts of fucked up?”
“All sorts.”
“I have to run but I will be back to get you in ninety minutes. Cool?”
“Yeah.”
“Give me your phone,” Glory said, and I handed it to her. “I’m storing my number. Don’t get too drunk without me. I want you to be sober enough to fill in the blanks. I want to know what you’re all about. I want to know what’s bothering you and how you got that shiner. And why you have a black line drawn on your neck.”
“That’s easy. Haircuts.”
She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. She handed me my phone back and I looked at it and smiled. She entered herself into my phone as Glory Holes.
SEAN GABLER 
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