His divorce lawyer’d insisted this nocturnal adventure would be a new beginning for him.
Fiddling with the white bows above her breasts, the girl waits, with seeming great patience, to know his pleasure. Almost motionless in the overstuffed armchair, Joseph nurses his second San Miguel. She reaches over, puts her hand on his right arm. He wonders if he’s made a mistake coming to this dingy room above the bar.
His now-former wife would often fret that, unlike normal men, he couldn't succumb to base passions.
An old Beatles song, "Yesterday," comes on the radio. She pulls away, dancing around the small room, swaying back and forth, occasionally snapping her fingers, looking at him with a mocking smile. "You think I’m not attractive?," she whispers, glancing to see if his eyes are following her body
"It’s just I have to get into it." Embarrassed by his absent tumescence, he can’t bring himself to accept her offer to remedy his numbness. "Your hour’s almost over," she says. "But you can stay a while longer. No extra charge.
If you want, come back tomorrow," she says finally, jumping up from the bed. “Maybe take a little blue pill first. You can get them down the street. No prescription.”
"Half price," she whispers in his ear as he stands up, her body heat warming his back. "Maybe no price. Just ask for me."
Wordlessly, he stumbles out of the room, past the bar, realizing he doesn't know her name. In the taxi back to San Diego, he wonders how long he must wait for his new life to begin.