... as so many of them are wont to do.
The passage of time has its advantages, among them, acquiring the sure & certain knowledge that, if it was good for me, it was amazing for him; if I felt passionate, he felt even more so. No matter how they behave after… especially if they behave badly afterwards.
A year after Ground Control brought my spaceship back to earth, he materialized once again out of the welter of being and nothingness. In a club, of course. Where he cornered me, and the following conversation ensued:
Ground Control: Do you remember me?
Stef: Of course.
Ground Control: And… do you remember… last year… in the morning… I gave you my number?
Ground Control: Yeah, so… I was wondering if… maybe… you lost it?
Stef: No. Why do you ask?
Ground Control: Because I waited for days for you to call, and you never did. So I thought maybe you lost my number.
Stef: You said such awful things to me as you were writing it down, that I threw it away as soon as you left.
Ground Control: You’re kidding… what did I say!?!?
Stef: You said… blablablabla.
Ground Control: I did not.
Stef: Did too.
Ground Control: Jesus. I can’t believe I was such an asshole.
Stef: I couldn’t either. Especially since I thought we had a nice time.
Ground Control: I had a great time. In fact, it was the best I had before or since. After meeting you I went back to Paris and I broke up with my girlfriend.
Stef: C’est la vie…
Ground Control: I'm thinking about moving to BA... do you have a boyfriend?
Stef: How beautiful you are… sorry gotta split!
Ground Control: Give me a call if you’re ever in Paris!