“I don’t ever like New Year’s,” I tell Jörn now, because I’m nervous about the staff’s party “I never like to go out for it....so I never do— everyone is always drunk....”
“Well, now you don’t have to go out,” he says
“Very funny!” I laugh at him, because he’s making fun of me—“yes, because it’s right here.... but now everyone will be drunk in my place and I won’t be able to escape them!”
“So maybe we can escape before midnight, min lilla duva, and we go to my place and let the staff take care of it. It was for them, they wanted it....”
“And now they’ve invited people from The Met! What the fuck? So, don’t let this go to your head but I’m actually glad you’re ....here....”
“You mean your pirate to make your escape?”
“No, because you do this kind of thing all the time—you’re used to being with this kind of crowd....you know, the Philharmonic, Lincoln Center type people ....”
He is standing before the mirror putting on a tie, and while he’s listening to me he is also also, I notice with amusement, admiring himself.... he can be a bit vain .... (he looks good in a tie, especially Nordic blue ones)
“I don’t notice those people. I mostly ignore everyone,” he reaches for his jacket and puts it on. He had a performance tonight and the party has begun without us
“But aren’t you the host?” Jörn asks me
“No, I don’t think anyone thinks that.... I’m like the custodian—right?”
“When are you changing?” he asks me with an odd impatience as his vampire eyes sweep me
“Changing?” I look at my reflection ....
“You can’t wear jeans, min lilla duva....”
(How does he know?)(is there a rule book?)
“Oh.... am I wearing jeans?” because I am not in the mood to care. “Hmmm.... well, they’re here so it’s too late,” and I start to go
“No, no— you aren’t going to face the Metropolitan museum in jeans on New Year’s Eve,” he pulls me back easily by my arm and drags me to the closet; rifles through saying, “take those off!”
So he pulls out the black one. It’s still his favorite. But slowly he he removes everything else I had on under what I wore. We hear the clatter of dishes in the next room. He takes everything off and slips the black dress over my head,
“simplify things for later—at midnight ....”
He says,
“sit down, where’s your make up?”
He picks dark red lipstick but keeps my face pale.
He says,
“I suggest one glass of champagne downed immediately and the rest will go fine....min lilla duva.”
We walk in together and everybody looks at us.... and start taking pictures and he hands me champagne
The staff have evidently taken over
—everywhere —because the furniture has been all rearranged so I trip over unexpected furniture as I meet someone from the New York Times. And festive decorations hang everywhere like an explosion of Gatsby glitter —but instead it’s 2019
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