I went over to the Time-Warner Center at Columbus Circle after dinner, to browse at Borders. When I was going up the escalator, I saw a young woman who reminded me a little of Angela, who was my favorite stripper-lapdancer of all. I haven’t seen her in almost three years; she quit the job in 2004.

Actually, the resemblance didn’t occur to me until we got to the top of the escalator and the young woman began to walk away. But while we were riding upwards--she was about seven or eight steps ahead of me--I was looking at her sleek figure, which was clad in an ivory blouse and slacks. She had on spiked heels too, and at one point she raised her right foot and held her leg backwards at a ninety degree angle as she stood on the moving stair.

Although this gal was probably unaware of me, that movement with her foot set me off on a brief train of thought. I imagined for a moment that she DID realize I was looking at her, and lifted up her foot almost as a subconscious gesture to tell me to stay away, as if she would kick me if I said something, no matter how benign.

We got to the top of the escalator and she turned and walked off in a different direction than mine. That was when I thought, “Wait--was that Angela??” I was pretty sure she wasn’t, because I think I would have recognized Angela readily, and I saw this girl in profile. But I suddenly feared the idea of running into Angela in the “outside world” and having her either ignoring me or spurning even the most mild and friendly greeting. You have to understand, I am very discreet, and I would only say hello to her if she were alone. Many dancers keep their job a secret, and I wouldn’t want to put her in a compromised position with anyone else. But if I saw her while she was alone, yes, I would say hello.

Of course, if she were with somebody else but still said hello to me, I would certainly return the greeting.

But actually I hope I don’t EVER run into her, because I have so many pleasant and erotic memories of our encounters that I wouldn’t want anything to spoil them. I wasn’t her friend and she wasn’t mine; she was a stripper and I was her customer, and I don't think my seeing her again would mean much to her. I fulfilled her goal of making easy money, and she fulfilled mine of brief uncomplicated eroticism. Although she gave me great value for my lapdance dollar, she did not otherwise linger and talk with me much beyond pleasantries. It was sexual, sensual fantasy and that was it. And I’d rather keep that fond recollection intact, because if I did see her and she snubbed me, it would probably destroy the daydreams of her I still enjoy.

The possibility that she might actually be glad, even in a cursory way, to see an old customer...somehow seems remote.

The title of this wispy little post is a line from a favorite movie of mine, Blume in Love. It's been one of those days, or weekends, I guess. Sometimes I wish I could just be content to walk in the spring sunshine mindlessly, but no...I think too damn much about all the shit that bugs me.

Gotta take it more easy. "Lotta emotion gets you kinda weary." Cool as a cucumber Kris Kristofferson said it to George Segal's neurotic character in the movie, which was about an overwrought guy trying to win back his ex-wife.

Anyway, I hope tomorrow will be a better day.

Such a beautiful day...sorry to see the sun go down...

I took a walk up along Central Park to Lincoln Center, where they have all the concerts and operas and films...stopped in Barnes & Noble there and browsed awhile...

Later, walking downtown again along Ninth Avenue, I admired how stunning all the tall buildings looked in the sunlight against the blue sky...I love to look at architecture almost as much as I love to look at women...

With the warm weather, the flip-flops were out in force today on the ladies...

But the sexiest woman I saw was at the bookstore, on the cover of a novel called The Song is You, by Megan Abbott. She writes noir style fiction, and her newest book has a cover design by Richie Fahey, who recently did the covers for the reissues of the James Bond novels...

He photographs models in black and white in vintage clothing, then hand colors the prints to give them a retro feeling...his lighting and posing really capture the vanished era of tough guys and deadly dames.

I've included links below both to the cover I saw, and to the artist's own website.

Treat your eyes.

MeganAbbott

RichieFahey

Finally the weather turned warm and beautiful today, so I did my work and I went out for a walk in the latter part of the afternoon. I walked down Eighth Avenue all the way to 34th Street. The sidewalks were crowded and people were walking slowly, as if to savor the change in the climate. It was nice to take off the winter jacket. The tall old buildings in the garment district between Times Square and 34th Street almost looked new again in the sunlight.

I stopped by a hat store to check out something new instead of the baseball cap I wore all winter, but I didn't buy anything.

I've been watching old European gothic horror films this week, full of mad doctors and insane experiments. Maybe now that the wind and rain has gone, my taste in entertainment will shift to something sunnier. But probably not. I find mad doctors interesting whatever the season. And the beautiful actresses invariably in these European movies are a visual substitute for the strippers I can't really spend much money on now.

It's like my eyes need a sensual outlet, one way or the other. So if it's some Euro starlet in a skimpy gown in the clutches of a crackpot scientist, well, that'll do.

To keep my expenses down (I know I sound like a broken record) I've been eating at home mostly. Thumbs up to Progresso soups! I recommend the Roasted Garlic Chicken with Penne. In my neighborhood, it goes for $2.99 for the can, and with a hunk of French baguette, it makes a nice cheap meal. Add a Granny Smith apple for dessert.

There was a nice picture of Jessica Biel in one of the tabloids yesterday, wearing a trench coat and peep-toe pumps. Apparently she was visiting the David Letterman show. Too bad I wasn't walking by when she arrived! She's somebody I'd like to see in person.

I re-watched that scene with Florina Petcu in Spike Lee's Inside Man (see my previous post). She has beautiful upper arms. I checked her out on the web and apparently she knows some kind of martial art. No wonder she looks so toned and strong. Her scene is funny; her feisty character agrees to help Denzel Washington's cop character if he'll fix her parking tickets. I hope this beauty makes lots more movies. Kudos to Spike for casting her so memorably in his flick.

There was another chick in the movie who played a busty babe with a cellphone and lots of New York attitude. She was memorable too, and funny, but I haven't been able to determine what her real name was yet. I was too busy re-watching Florina's scene.

These are the leisure time activities of a middle-aged bachelor deprived of his strippers by the financial ups-and-downs of his life.