After my long night in the slammer (that phrase, as a way of starting a story, has a certain something, which the French call “I don’t know what,” that’s very appealing, doesn’t it?), which I know I painted in the worst possible terms, I soon came to realize that there are worse things: having to face the wrath of a very angry woman. Let’s just say that B. did not take kindly to having been stood up. I suppose I can’t blame her, in retrospect. But at the moment she barged into my apartment (note to self: you’ve got to start locking your front door!), as I was trying to get a little sleep, I wasn’t really in the mood. How would you react to someone shaking you awake and screaming at you, after not having gotten hardly any sleep? I should have just taken my lumps, I guess, but instead I kind of blew up at her.

I’m not even sure what she was saying when I first came to. The part that got through the fog was something about what was her name. Eventually I realized that B. thought I’d stood her up because I was with another woman. If I’d been in a better mood, this would have made me laugh. The other woman’s name? Are we talking about the same guy here? I mean, it’s me, Harlan, who has about as much chance of two-timing a woman as a one legged man has of winning a butt-kicking contest. I think my exact words though were, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“What the hell am I talking about? I’m talking about the fact that you blew me off! That you didn’t even call! That now you’re asleep in the middle of the day, having spent all day not calling me to tell me what happened? I was worried sick! Until I realized you were probably cheating on me!”

What I said next kind of surprised even me: “Dammit, will you lay off already! I wasn’t with another woman. I just spent the entire fucking night in jail, okay? Are you satisfied?” So much for wondering how I was going to tell her.

B. Just stood there, with her mouth hanging open, kind of dumbstruck. It was a sight to behold. I know I haven’t said all that much about B., out of respect for her privacy, but if I had to choose one word to describe her, it would not be “speechless.” Maybe speechful, in fact, would be a decent choice. Seeing this made me bold. Normally I probably would have fallen apart, afraid that I’d just offended a woman, but seeing her like that gave me the courage to throw in, “And I’d like to get a little sleep if you don’t mind!”

I think she was so shocked by my assertiveness,that she just didn’t know what else to do but obey. You could see on her face that she wanted to ask more questions. Her forehead was bulging with veins, like all her questions were going to just burst right out of her head. Instead, without saying another word, she turned around and left, slamming my front door behind her. So I turned over and went back to sleep.