Monday, August 4  

Sweat

Vic’s former lover and now friend (Ann) calls her early Sunday morning and says "Let’s spend all afternoon eating chips and loafing on the sofa and then go to the gym." It is 37 degrees celcius and climbing.

sweat: verb 1. To excrete moisture through the pores of the skin 2. To exert one’s mental or physical powers to the point of exhaustion.

Vic likes Ann and she’s been very satisfied by the steady friendship that has developed between them. Though she feels she doesn’t deserve Ann’s friendship (having broken her heart viciously, not once but in fact twice which is utterly inexcusable) she is certainly glad of it. Ann is smart and witty and well put together, sort of like Vic but in a more lesbian way. Plus, she is devoted to the gym and occasionally remembers to drag Vic along, keeping her healthy by association.

The chip eating goes well. Couch loafing clocks in just as expected. They discuss the renewal of Vic's lustful relationship with Jon. Ann cocks her eyebrow discouragingly but doesn't say anything when Vic admits that she brought Jon back to erase William, just as William was brought (or allowed, anyway) back to erase Jon. But because she's not the kind of friend who tries to solve your problems, rather listens and remembers (and may point patterns out in the future when you try to pretend you never did or said such a stupidly obvious thing) -- becase she's that kind of friend, Ann doesn't ask Vic if she thinks it's a good idea to use men to make herself feel better. She just gives the look and pulls a strand of hair out of Vic's mouth before turning back to the tv and popping the last full chip in her mouth.

Vic already knows what Ann thinks anyway. But she comforts herself with the thought that Ann couldn't possibly understand. Women are just different. You don't have to erase them. You break up with them, you hold them while they cry, duck if they throw something and then you get back to the business of being their friend. It's easy. No sweat.

With men, you don't get to be friends afterward. Not real friends. The best you can manage is furtive lunches that purport to be "catch ups" but are really just opportunities to keep track of each other, to know if, when, another person has officially taken your place in their lives so at least you can stop sweating the gross, heavy, INEVITABILITY of it.