The Ginger Man - J. P. Donleavy [34]
"Funny man."
"Me?"
"Yes. And what do you feel now?"
"The good things."
"As?"
"Joy. Relief."
"Some men feel disgusted."
"Pity."
"Yes. And I feel better. I need it. What's she like?"
"Marion?"
"Yes."
"An enigma, not getting what she expects."
"And what does she expect?"
"She wants it both ways. Dignity and me. She's got me. One way, you know. But she's not to blame."
"What's she like when you're—"
"Making love?"
"Yes."
"Likes it. Not as creative as you. She has great latent sexuality."
"And don't you make use of it?"
"It comes out Worry doesn't help"
"I wonder if there is any such thing as a perfect sex life among married people"
"Waxes and wanes"
"Yes. It's such a complicated thing. Always frightened me. You feel funny there. Does it tickle. Gets me thinking and it's so smooth. Must be an instinct to kiss smooth things. When I was fifteen I thought my nipples were like the skin on lips and I kissed them and when my mother knocked on the bathroom door I was terrified that she would ask me what happened to them. I got a thing about it. Parents' sex is" so different. At seventeen I got an awful shock seeing my mother and father making love."
"For God's sake, tell me what happened."
"I had the flu and I was going to the bathroom and I saw them from the stairs. I was just beginning to learn then and I never knew a woman could sit on a man. I told this to my girl friend and she wouldn't speak to me for a month after-wards."
"I tell you Chris, there's no end to it. You are an intelligent girl."
"And you must be intelligent to tell me."
"Exactly. I like it here. Little comforts, little joys."
"You don't want much."
"I don't. And you?"
"Married, I guess. Most women want to."
"Then what?"
"Children. I'm not looking for a picket fence around the house and a loving husband struggling away in the local bank. I want a certain contentment. What are you laughing at?"
"Just thinking of myself."
Turning on her shoulder, facing him.
"Tell me, did you know I was going to sleep with you?"
"Never thought of it"
"Did you want to?"
"Instantly, the first time I saw you"
"I knew we were. How do you feel now that we have?"
"I don't know. I feel I know you."
"Hold my hand."
"You'll be able to breast-feed your children. Let me see under your arm."
"I refuse to shave them for anyone."
"Smell of Russia."
"How dare you."
"Rich. And your navel."
"England?"
"No but interesting. If I have to work for a living Fm going to tell people's fortunes by their navels."
"A woman doesn't want you to see more than her own. Funny that before tonight I was prepared to accept coming back to this dreary room. Turn on the radio and listen to some silly people. Cooking myself dreary meals. It makes all the difference to have someone to cook for. How curious and sudden it all is. One expects it to happen. It happens. Now I know what you look like without clothes. I won't be able to look at you from the laundry. I'll be mentally undressing you. It's ridiculous when you consider a man's genitals and the way he dresses. They ought to wear kilts or cod pieces."
"I'd have mine tailored in Savile Row."
"Priests would