“Remember when we put that webcam in the office of that loafing professor, and posted the video of him tweeting for eight solid hours? Even during his bathroom break?”
Scarlett laughed, twirling her hair in her finger as I fed her a grape from the basket. “What a dweeb. He tore up that picture of the basket full of puppies I left on his desk!”. She wrinkled her nose exaggerated-but-real distaste.
We were on a beach blanket by one of the ponds in Central Park, on a gorgeous day in 2005. Kite flyers and jump-ropers and dog-walkers meandered around – but I don’t remember hearing or noticing them, or any of the other thrum of the big city. It was just Scarlett and me.
“I do!. How could I forget?” I had to hurry before she put a strawberry in my mouth.
We lay there on the blanket for what seemed like hours, staring into each others’ eyes.
“You like me, don’t you?” she finally said. “Even though our politics are completely the opposite?”
“Of course”, I answered. “There are some things more important than politics. I mean what if…”
She interrupted me with a long, warm counter-kiss. We didn’t say much more before adjourning back to the hotel.
She looked at me, her cheek reflecting a little of the moonlight coming through the window. She pulled the covers up over her shoulders. “That’s what I like about you”.
“Well, I mean…”
“No, not that, she chuckled as I finished off a now-lukewarm glass of room service champagne. “No, I mean, you treat me so…nice. Like a regular person!”
“Why would I not?” I responded, sitting up on one elbow.
“Well, I know I didn’t always think of conservatives as people”, she said, sounding mildly abashed.
“It’s OK. We all grow”
She smiled, and wrapped her arms around me again. “I like that…”
AUTHOR’S NOTE: “Scarlett” was a “Compression” of several different girlfriends, situations and scenarios, real and imagined.