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Show All the Variables & Other Love Stories 57 fortunate; her parents had taken a two-bedroom suite. "God, Zach," Cara begged, "let me come with, huh?" Crossing the lobby Zach was accosted by a Texan in sweatpants and a K-Mart ball cap. His belly dipped deep over the elastic band about his waist. He ran Zach through the gamut of skier jargon. He delighted at words like "piste," "bunny," and "bloodwagon" as if they comprised his first exposure to a new tongue. He repeated himself and, finding his enthusiasm unreciprocated, fled the scene. "You know that guy?" Cara asked, appalled. "Lloyd? Sure. Met him yesterday." Cara grimaced. In the elevator she told Zach how yesterday afternoon, at check in, this same degenerate had leaned in close to her and slipped a crisply folded fifty dollar bill into her hand, searching deeply and, for sure, way creepy her confused young eyes. He told her thank you so very much for having worn the faux-leather mini-skirt she'd bought special for the trip as it would be a tragedy on the level of starving Somalians to hide such perfectly shaped legs and he would masturbate to their tribute for some time to come. She was paralyzed with shame and shocked at his gall, unable to speak or move. He walked away as comfortably as he'd approached and rejoined his wife and children across the lobby. Cara wanted to drop the new bill on the ground and escape from it but somehow the idea of it sitting there exposed for all to see was a more humiliating prospect. She shoved it in her jacket pocket. There it sat still; she'd not had the nerve even to look at it since. Zach laughed. Certainly, it was disrespectful but ole' Lloyd was harmless enough and the insult had been laced with a great compliment. He understood she was insulted |
