Calling...

The precipitation continues well into the next day. It is mid winter but feels more like a cold November rain.

Late in the afternoon I call J.

"Tufts University Hospital Psychiatry Department. This is J, how may I help you?"

Without hesitation I ask: "Are you a provider or a patient?"

She laughs and responds: "I'm definitely not a patient and you are good at improvising one liners. It is getting late, I was afraid you wouldn't call."

"It's been a busy day. The first free moment I've had to relax. Do you have to go soon?"

"Unfortunately yes! I have a meeting this evening and traffic getting to Commonwealth Ave will be a bitch tonight."

"Board?"

"Yes, I'm spokesperson for the International Organization of the Rights of Women. We meet monthly."

"Is that where you met C?"

She laughs: "God no! C is so apolitical. Be the way I told her you drove a Mercedes. We fought over it."

"I don't understand. Because its a German car and you're Jewish?"

"Nope. She was convinced that you were a liar and made up the fact you drive a Benz-I think in part she was initially trying persuade me not to meet with you. Now that you are what you say you are, she feels even more threatened."

"And no doubt the excitement you shared with her about meeting a real top who didn't try to jump your bones had nothing to do with her discomfort."

"You do speak you mind. Direct. Listen, C made plans to go to the Club Cafe tomorrow evening. Wanna meet us there for a drink around 8?"

"Is that the gay and lesbian bar with the glass floor? The place where you can look between your knees and see the men working out?"

"Afraid to go?"

"Merde. Non!"

"Sheesh French too. Okay we'll be there after 8. You can meet C. I have to warn you I'm not much of a drinker. My limit is one Stoli so please don't be late!"