11 :: possible combinations ::
[posted 12/30/00]
It's Friday. Jakob and Fletcher will be getting together tonight at the Rainbo Club. She uses two crooked fingers to pull the curtain back; inspects the leaden sky.
She's not sure if she wants to go yet.
She is sure that Jakob's interested. Sniffing after info, she gave Fletcher a call last night. She didn't even have to twist his arm before he gave her the full deal: Jakob? Nice guy, first year in grad school, just moved here from Ohio. Oh, and he likes you.
The Walgreens receipt is by the phone. She picks it up, turns it over, inspects the reverse side absently. She considers going tonight, and she considers giving Jakob a call, to confirm that she'll be going. But it would do more than just confirm. It would communicate interest. And she's still not sure if she is actually interested.
A relationship is creaking into life here, the signs are all present: surreptitious glances, awkward small talk, the revelation of a kernel of interest. This is the part that's supposed to be the most fun, but she can't quite enjoy it, because all her other relationships began this way, too, and she knows how those ended up. She's been fed through the Relationship Machine so many times (she ignores an impulse to count the exact number) that she feels like she's seen every major relationship permutation possible. She feels like she's stuck in a Choose Your Own Adventure book that she's read too many times, and where every ending leaves you wanting. (She used to love those books, though, especially the one where you fly in a balloon over the Sahara.)
Across town, Jakob sits at his desk, and reads: People are quite aware that some neighborhoods are sad and others pleasant. But they generally simply assume that elegant streets cause a feeling of satisfaction and that poor streets are depressing, and let it go at that. In fact, the variety of possible combinations of ambiances, analogous to the blending of pure chemicals in an infinite number of mixtures, gives rise to feelings as differentiated and complex as any other form of spectacle can evoke. Of all the affairs we participate in, with or without interest, the groping search for a new way of life is the only aspect still impassioning.
