|
|
I return the smeared pages of last year's January Playboy to a wary librarian at the special
collections desk. I was starved when I started, but gnawing desire engendered endurance.
- I read your interview once, twice. Then once again. You crushed me, Van Damme, in
twelve short pages - wiped me out.
I leave Harper Library when the crystal Gothic windows refract no more; pale light tells me
that a cooling dinner awaits me at the northern reaches of Hyde Park. I feel confused as
I wander east, stepping cautiously from the bosom of the University of Chicago Quadrangle
into University Avenue. How can a reasonable person like me feel so stung? I've never met
the guy, probably never will. Wham! Just a few candid words from an action hero.
Complaints from a beeping Corolla jar me from my stupor. I startle and retreat to the curb.
|