May 14, 2012 § Leave a comment
Contessa de la Luna aired on Sunday nights at midnight. She was a former he I think and her show was a mix of call-in confessionals and Paris remix type house music. 90.7 it was on, KBOO, the community radio station in Portland, ostensibly named after a strain of marijuana. She thought I was still asleep when she called in to the show from our kitchen. But I was awake.
We had gone shopping that day. We bought frames. We went home and framed things. Then we ate nachos and talked about opening up a nacho restaurant, a place that only served nachos. “You really have to get that nichey these days,” I said, “like that store on Mississippi that only sells light bulbs.”
It was the day before her birthday. She wanted to have birthday sex that night to ring it in. I wanted to try to try. But I was barely holding myself together. She took the radio into the kitchen. I wrapped my arms around the cat. A low four on the floor and a little white noise hummed from the other room. Then I heard her voice. “Contessa? Yes. Hello. No, this is my first time calling in. Yeah, my first time. I’m scared. I live with my partner. I’m scared. No, no. It’s just, he’s sad. He’s so sad. He used to be silly sometimes, but now he’s only sad and I’m scared.”