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Stupid technology, I say, holding the jumpsuit with one hand while trying to pull the zipper up with the other.
Fight the garment!
Now that is a good slogan.
Jordan looks at me, amused. It took her no more than five minutes to get here after Pete gave us the news and we all hung up in a hurry, and without much explanation she gave me a jumpsuit and said, Put this on.
I said, what?
I looked at the jumpsuit. The sticker on it said, Blackpool Maintenance.
This is the maintenance company for the building, I said.
Yeah..., Jordan said, and waited for me to continue.
Is this where you've been the past three weeks?
It was the easiest way to get it, she said. I got one for me too.
And then you quit? I said.
I quit today, she said, taking off her clothes.
I looked at her. Suddenly all I could see was her shoulder, bare, how it reflected the light coming from the ceiling, and I wondered...
She must have seen my expression, because she said, No, I'm not made of wood. It's just that you can't tell.
I smiled, then thought, To kill lust, nothing better than changing the subject.
I said, I'll call a cab. Otherwise it'll take a lot longer to get there.
Yeah, Jordan said, putting on her jumpsuit.
So I made the call and then began my battle with the zipper from hell.
I pull up, then down, and it still doesn't move. What is up with this thing?
I keep pulling the suit this way and that, thinking about what we're doing and about what's in the background of my mind, bothering me, about Eddie locked away inside his fort, about the patrol cars outside the building, sirens blazing off into the night, when verses come into my head:
You get to feel so guilty,
got so much for so little,
then you find that feeling just won't go away.
You're holding on to every little thing so tightly,
till there's nothing left for you anyway.
You wanted to get somewhere so badly,
you got to lose yourself along the way.
You change your name but that's okay... it's necessary.
And what you leave behind you don't miss anyway.
What's that you're humming? Gone? Jordan says.
Goodbye, you can keep this...
My voice trails off, and I think for a moment.
Yeah, I say, Song stuck in my head for some reason.
She says, Ready?
I finally finish closing the zipper over my chest. Victory!
Sir, ready, sir! I say.
Jordan smiles. Okay. Ten minutes you said?
Yeah. Ten minutes, I say. I look at the watch on my bedside table, then I add, Seven, actually.
Okay, Jordan says, and then she sings:
Closer to you, everyday,
I didn't want it that much anyway.
You're taking steps that make you feel dizzy,
then you learn to like the way it feels.
You hurt yourself, you hurt your lover, then you discover...
what you thought was freedom is just greed.
I look at her, entranced.
I am about to say something when the intercom rings. Before I know it I'm answering it.
Hello?
Taxi, says the intercom.
We'll be right down, I say, and hang up.
Let's go, Jordan says.
I sing, I'm not coming dooown...
Jordan laughs.
Come on, she says.
Yeah, I know, I say, picking up the keys and the tape from the coffee table.
We don't have much time.
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