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Friday, July 17, 1998
By Paul Ford
I've met someone. It began over email, one of those innocuous, flirtatious relationships. She's a big fan of this web site and wanted to open up a discussion.
It took me a while to understand where she was coming from, her frustrations.
To look at her, she's some kind of statue. She's built like...well, she's built. She's been having fun in Brooklyn. Cooking, goofing around on my computer. Putting on sunglasses and walking around the neighborhood. It's hard to believe she doesn't mind sleeping in a one-room, but she says it's a break after being on a tour bus.
Ginger Spice can sing, too. She'll cook eggs and toast for breakfast and belt out a song in a clear voice. I join in, do the harmonies. She's asked me to write some songs for her, but I don't know if I can do Top-40 pop right. It's not my strength.
I like looking at her. She's settled into sweats and sneakers while she's visiting, but she can't hide that incredible figure. We don't talk much. The cell phone kept ringing her first night, then she turned the ringer off. "No one needs to know," she said. "And I don't want to get you involved."
I think that's wise; it would make things at work uncomfortable, people would be curious, and while the notoriety might increase diary readership, I don't know if those are the readers I want. So we hang out, in pleasing anonymity. Of course, I'm used to being anonymous, but it's a change for her. I know it can't last, that the call of the footlights and speaker arrays will take her away. Still, I take pleasure from our fleeting intimacy, from the this brief, exciting, era of affection.
She sits and reads as I go to work--good books, poetry and philosophy. She wants to help with the rent, but I won't let her; she's a guest, really more than a guest. When she arrived, I very politely set up the futon for her, but she said that one bed was enough for such a small apartment. If you understand.
But that part of things is secondary. Most important is that she's become a friend. As she sings in the morning, making love is easy; friendship never ends. It's simple. But in our case, it's true.