Horizontal Lives

True Tales of the Infamous Courtesan: Persephone N. Hades and her Horizontal Life underground. How she got there, her mis-adventures and her struggle to re-surface.

Sunday, May 01, 2005

7 Bananas and the GRE's


Yeah. Okay.
Here’s how the conversation went:


Me: Blah Blah Blah woe is me woe is me blah blah blah
He: You know what though?
Me: What?
He: (Bopping my upper arm with a ‘go-gettem-kid-punch’) You’re the strongest person I know. You’ll be fine.
Me: I’m a Candle in the Wind! How can you say that?
He: (Big fat laugh) (Too ‘big and fat’ for comfort) You? You’ll find a way. You’re a survivor.
Me: UGH! That is so frustrating.
He: What? I believe in you.
Me: Well don’t.
He: It’s a compliment.
Me: No it’s not!
He: What should I have said?
Me: Why is it, when women I know, who really have no issues, cry out for help, they get it? And not only get it but they get a Mercedes besides? When I tell someone the real issues I’m truly struggling through, and I don’t mention them by the way, unless I’m desperate! Why is it when I mention it, I get a light punch on the arm accompanied by a ‘You’ll be fine kid. You’re a ‘survivor’?’ It just sucks. I'm a 'Candle in the Wind' Dammit!
He: (really busting a gut now) Are you serious?
Me: Duh? Of course I’m serious.
He: You just seem so capable. So independent.
Me: Well of course I’m ‘independent’ and ‘capable’. No one has ever helped so how else can I be?
He: I’m sorry. What do you want?
Me: First? I want you to stop laughing.
He: Sorry. (Clearing his throat, sipping his Agua con gas) Okay.


Me: I want to be rescued.
He: (nearly choking on his Agua con gas) You can rescue yourself.
Me: I can’t! Okay. How?
He: Geisha.
Me: What?
He: You’re very smart.
Me: Not so smart actually. Smart about people. Knowing people inside. Knowing skin. Knowing. But what does that have to do with making a living on this planet.
He: What the f*ck are you talking about? You can do anything you want.
Me: Now I’m laughing. See? Ha! F*cking Ha Ha! What are you talking about? If I could do anything, you think I would be doing this?
He: Yes.


Me: (Pause) Okay. You’re right. I would do this BUT I can’t do this FOREVER. You understand that, right? I mean, it’s like being an Athlete or a Model—my business is short term and without the huge sums of money to save that a star Athlete or a Runway Model makes. My business ENDS. And then what? There is a time limit and I don’t have enough money saved and time is running out and I’m buried and I’m qualified for NOTHING ELSE and I have no resume or other talents. Tell me. Tell me what to do and still be happy and not entombed in 'a life of quiet desperation'? You tell me?


He: Whew. (Pause) By the way, in case you’re interested, I come here for a time of escape and here you are plaguing me with all this.
Me: Oh. I’m sorry. Come here and let me suck your cock.
He: Mean. Very Mean.
Me: You asked me 'what was going on' and when I said 'everything was fine' you press me for the truth and when I hit you with it, now you’re bummed. So next time, don’t ask.


We sit in silence.


Me: I’m sorry. (Pause) No, I am. Sweetheart. You’re right. Come in the other room. I don’t want to talk anymore anyway and I want to torture you madly so I can get lost in your flesh. Come.
He: Okay but wait.
Me: No. Come. Really. I want to eat you alive, cell by cell, limb by limb.
He: Okay but one question? I wasn’t insulting you or deserting you.
Me: I know.
He: I just see you as this Vunder-Spirit. It was a compliment.
Me: I know.


He: Why can’t you go back to school?
Me: At my age? With my financial obligations? With all the people I take care of?
He: Yeah. With all that.
Me: Okay. Okay. Fair enough Professor. You teach at (a major Ivy League University). I guarantee you; your school would never admit me to their Graduate Program.
He: Sure they would.
Me: Don’t you have to take the GRE’s?
He: To go to Grad School, everyone does.
Me: And isn’t it competitive? Do they take people who score oh, somewhere around the level of a third-grader on the GRE?
He: You would score very well.
Me: I would huh?
He: You’re one of the smartest people I know.
Me: Maybe I should run for President.
He: We couldn’t do worse.
Me: True. But, my love, I have to tell you, I was a big bust on the GRE’s.
He: I don’t believe you.
Me: Okay. First of all, when I went to take them, I was already many years out of college.
He: So you took them before?
Me: Oh yeah? I think, and thisis very true, that I hold the record, not only for the lowest GRE score of all time, but for being the only person asked to leave both Kaplan and Princeton Review Courses. You know what they are, right? The schools that specifically charge a year’s salary for classes to prepare students just for those tests?
He: No. I know what they are. How’d you get kicked out? You didn’t get kicked out.
Me: I did. Or rather I was asked to not return as they felt there was no hope.
He: Now you’re exaggerating.
Me: I’m not. To begin with, Math and anything to do with Math is beyond me at this point. It was beyond me before this point so I didn’t even focus on it, as I knew there was no hope. But then when we got to those ‘Logic’ questions? Let me tell you this: I sat in the middle seat in the front of the classroom—mostly because I’m blind as a bat and too vain to wear glasses, but also because I really wanted to learn—
He: And?
Me: So the Instructor, who’s a young guy, maybe early thirties, gives a typical Logic question, something like what will be on the test—
He: Right—
Me: If Bob takes an 11 year old Chevy on a trip from NY to California and on the way, he stops in Maryland to pick up his friend Mary, who has two children, both eating Girl Scout Cookies, one a piece, and then drives to Wyoming to pick up Sarah who is carrying seven bananas and on small suitcase weighing 28lbs, then continues on to Las Vegas and gambles for forty five minutes at the Slot Machines winning 70 dollars, how long does it take him to get to LA?
He: I know. I know. Those questions are bizarre but all you need to focus on is—
Me: No. Wait. So the Instructor poses the question right? And I raise my hand because I want to understand and I have questions to his question. So I say, "I think it depends first of all, on how old the kids are because it will depend on how quickly you can get them in the car and secondly, if they have juice or milk to drink with their cookies, they may have to stop and pee and if they don’t have a juice or milk with them, then they will need to stop anyway to get something to drink and why does Sarah have seven bananas because not only can she buy bananas along the way but if she is traveling all the way to California, her bananas will rot and really only someone with a bizarre banana fetish would bring seven bananas so if she’s slightly banana obsessive that would mean she is a bit nuts and maybe they might have to stop at a Pharmacy to get her her medicine and anyway, all this would have an effect on the timing of the trip. Don’t you think? See. Now you’re laughing too. That’s what the class did and that’s what the Instructor did. And I think they thought I was kidding but in all honesty, I couldn’t see why and what other point was to be made. I mean, I think the issues I brought up would be relevant to the timing of the trip. Don’t you?
He: These tests are made for people who have no real life experience.
Me: People who are dumb? So you mean you score better if you’re dumb?
He: Not dumb, just not self-thinkers. You have to be trained to think in the way they’re asking for.
Me: They ask how long it would take. Right? And then they bog it down with details that matter.
He: They don’t matter.
Me: How can you say that? If a woman is carrying 7 bananas for reasons we haven’t discerned, and another has two kids of ages that we haven’t discerned, well, frankly these things matter in life and in the timing of a trip. So anyway, long story long, the Instructors didn't feel they could help me. My money was returned and I was asked to leave. Much like when I was physically removed from the Island of Paros in Greece. I mean, who gets removed from an entire Greek Island?


He: Geisha.
Me: What?
He: The Grad Schools took a loss when they didn’t take you.
Me: You just want to get into my knickers.
He: I do. But they did. I’m a Prof. I’m tenure in Academia. But it ain’t perfect.
Me: But anyway, that’s my point. I can’t get into Grad School because I can’t even score on the GRE’s. So now, Professor, tell me what I do to save myself?
He: Geisha, somehow I get the feeling you’ll find a way.
Me: It’s so easy for you to say that because you don’t want it to be otherwise. You don't want to get involved.
He: I’m a Professor. I have to save my money to come see you.
Me: You’re right. I know. I don’t expect you to save me. I don’t really expect anyone else to save me. I just wish someone who could, would. Hey. Maybe you could give your class one of those Logic questions and see how they do. Disguise it as a Chemistry problem.

(He is a Professor of Chemistry.)


He: Well, every Monday, I tell them a joke.
Me: Do they have a good sense of humor?
He: They’re a pretty serious lot.
Me: So tell me the joke you’re gonna tell them on Monday.
He: There’s no more Monday’s this Semester. They’re in Finals.
Me: Okay, so tell me the joke you told last Monday.
He: They have to be ‘clean’ jokes, so maybe it won’t be funny to you.
Me: I can be ‘clean’. Tell me.


He: Two friends each have dogs. One a German Shepherd. One a Chihuahua. They pass a Pub and want to go in for a drink. One says he doesn’t think they can go in because of the dogs and doesn’t feel comfortable tying his dog up outside for too long. The other says he has an idea. They will pretend they are blind and the dogs are ‘seeing-eye’ dogs. The first one says, ‘Well that’s okay for you. You’re dog is a German Shepherd.’ The other one says, "Just watch and follow me." So he leads going into the Bar. The Barman stops him and says, "No dogs allowed." The man says, "I’m blind and this is my ‘seeing-eye’ dog." The Bartender lets him in and sets him up with a free beer. The second man puts on his sunglasses and walks into the Bar. The Bartender stops him and says, "No dogs allowed." The second man says, "I’m blind and this is my ‘seeing-eye’ dog." The Bartender says, "Uh, I don’t think so. Since when do they use Chihuahua’s as ‘seeing-eye’ dogs?" And the second man replies: "They gave me a Chihuahua??!!"
Me: (guffawing) That’s GREAT! That’s a fantastic joke. I have to remember it! (To myself) ‘Shepherd. Chihuahua. What? Blind.’ (To my Client) Key words. Old RFDS trick. That’s how I keep it in my head.


He: Maybe you could study the GRE’s that way. Key words.
Me: Maybe. But I think you should pose this formula to your students. I think you should write it on the board in all seriousness. "A man travels from a College town to the big city of New York for a Conference and happens to call a pretty petite once red-headed, now blonde girl that he happens to know there and he travels from his medium-priced hotel to her Sheradzade apartment, engulfed in candlelight, swelling with luscious music, wreaking of incense and Champagne. The girl is clad in only the finest silk covering and underneath, dons the choicest lingerie. How long does it take for the interpersonal chemistry to overwhelm them before they can no longer dwell on reality and are forced to communicate through flesh? Write that on the board and see if they are worthy of their GRE skills.
He: You want my car to be bombed?
Me: They wouldn’t!
He: They take their studies very seriously.
Me: Me too. Come with me oh Professor of Chemistry, into my 'Research Lab', and let us see who is the 'Master of Chemistry'.
He: Are you going to torture me?
Me: In every way, shape and form. (Pause) Unless you don’t want me to?
He: That’s what I came here for—
Me: Then, (rubbing my hands together, diabolically) Please Professor, enter my Laboratory…heee heee heee.


Later:


Me: Will it be another two years before I see you again?
He: I have to save up. Academia Salary.
Me: I know. But we have such nice chemistry together. You touch me just the way I like it. I think I should give you a tattoo. Five Stars with the word "Geisha" beneath it. Only a few people would be worthy of that rating.
He: Now you’re just being nice.
Me: I wish. I wish I was lying and everyone touched me the way I truly liked. But alas.
He: So only three?
Me: A few.
He: A few is 3.
Me: My god you are so literal.
He: Aren’t all men?
Me: Yes. Yes they are.
He: So out of how many, how many get the tattoo.
Me: Not to exaggerate but let’s say out of say 300 thousand maybe 30?
He: And I’m one of the 30?
Me: You’re one of the 30. This is what I think. If you have a brand on you with 5 stars from Geisha, then every woman you meet will be like. ‘Wow! The Michelin five-star Geisha rating. I have to sleep with you!’ and that’s it. You got it 'made in the shade'.
He: 'Made in the shade'? Geisha. You’re older than you’re telling me.
Me: Maybe I just watch a lot of ‘Nick at Nite’.


He: So what are you going to do?
Me: What? You mean about my upcoming unstable devastating future?
He: Yes, Drama Queen.
Me: I suppose I’ll just end up in a home for aging disposed-of Courtesans.
He: In that case, I have one suggestion.
Me: Okay...
He: Bring along 7 Bananas. You never know.