Here’s sort of what happened in order. I waited till noon, but Sonja never called. Maybe she got canned. I get over to Scotties and Liz & I go for coffee at Ernie’s on 120th. Sure enough, not even in the door and this extremely nice lady—but too old—at least 25 makes a pass at me with Liz right there. I couldn’t believe it, but fortunately neither could Liz. Well, we had a long talk—it was her who was worried over the Guildford Incident. I’m informed the bearded wonder she was with was a “boring but very smart” friend who, she says, had nothing better to do than drive her over to the stores. Anyway—as I thought, she didn’t recognize me. No beard, new hair, etc. And she was very keen on Sonja’s age. Sort of, “If that’s your girlfriend why do you want me?” That, Shakespeare, is the real question.
It’s the same girl, alright. But something’s come over her. She only called me crazy 7 times, a weirdo twice, and really dumb twice. Once each were ‘stupid’, ‘insincere’, ‘bragging’ and on several points reminded me I didn’t know what I was doing, couldn’t possibly do anything being the way I was and had best straighten out if I wanted to have any fun in life. Now, not to be discouraged, believe me this was a remarkable tally for an hour’s conversation with this woman. Most of the rest was the process of her crying the blues, criticizing my outlook, insinuating I didn’t deserve my job & income, and drawing unfair comparisons between me and her ex-husband. Listen, this broad really likes me.
All in all, she is still a rare find. Thirty plus, as near to a virgin as you’ll ever find, an expert on silver investments, a real estate speculator, and a self-made woman. At home, she showed me around. Predictably, the place was spotless. A den full of books and for me—a good-by kiss. But then, she says come back here and I’ll give you a real kiss. I always thought at our age, it was wise to leave something for later, so I left. This constitutes a big day for me in the doldrums, so I spent the rest of the day actually watching TV. Steve McQueen—“The Blob”. I kept thinking, like Liz if I watch her long enough it might get exciting. No, seriously, folks . . . .
[Author’s note: I still can’t sort this entry out, but I do know there was a stretch where it was winding down with Sonja and picking up with Crazy Liz. The Guildford Incident was a chance meeting far from anywhere Liz and I spotted each other out with somebody else. Even in my otherwise private life, such things still happen. I later learned that whenever Liz had been out with some other man, I got severely criticized the next time we dated. I later learned she got this from the other guys when she told them about my fancy job and car.
In the end, Liz and I went nowhere, I finally realized her sole redeeming quality was her likeness to Beverly Gillingham, I gal I dated when I was 18. But do read at least until mid-1984 to get the final wrap-up on Liz. She had once been married for two weeks. That’s all anybody could take, I suppose. Some women just never get it right.
I also see that I had not learned the proper way to use an ellipsis.]
