It feels good being on the same page as Cinnamon, especially when I am rarely ever on the same page with anyone.

“So of course Thomas loves it.”

“All Thomases do.”

The bartender is suddenly in our faces. “Want another?”

I am annoyed he is interrupting our moment.

“Two shots,” Cinnamon says, “of tequila.”

“Oh god, I can’t,” I say. “I’m kind of a pussy when it comes to alcohol.” I am feeling a little buzzed from the beer. And high.

“They’re both for me,” Cinnamon says. “And go on. The Big Sleep.”

“Yeah, so I make Thomas take me in hopes of running into the blessed Beau Rubidoux.”

The bartender slams the first shot on the bar and Cinnamon takes it back.

“The first time we go, Thomas says his coke dealer is there, and I’m like whatever, and he’s like, ‘My coke dealer doesn’t sell anymore,’ and I’m like, ‘Stop talking.’ And then we go again, and I see Beau Rubidoux, and then I notice Thomas looking at him too, then waving.”

“OMG, is Beau Rubidoux his coke dealer?”

“Former coke dealer, I guess,” I say.

“God,” says Cinnamon. “This cursed city.” She takes the second shot. “Is that why you’re upset? Because he deals coke?”

“Dealt coke,” I say. This distinction is important to me. “And no, not really.”

“Good,” she says. “Everyone in this town deals something.”

I nod. “I deal scam occult wisdom.”

“I deal desire,” she says.

I feel ashamed again, for how much time and money I’ve spent at Mirror Box, throwing ones in exchange for empty connection.

“So anyway,” I say, “Thomas introduced us briefly, and then Beau left with his friends. But I was so high off the interaction. We’d finally met, and it felt like I was getting somewhere.”

“So, what happened?”

“Today I was at Subtropical working, and suddenly he was hovering over my table. He caught me completely off guard. And I acted like such an idiot. He was trying to talk to me, and I completely froze. Finally he just walked away.”

“Oof,” says Cinnamon. “So I get how you feel, but I promise it wasn’t as bad as you think it was. You probably came off cool and mysterious. You left him wanting more! If you had been too eager it would have been worse.”

“You think?” I ask. I consider putting money in Cinnamon’s bra for listening to my dumb story and making me feel better.

“I don’t think. I know,” she says, like a true Scorpio stellium. “You have this icy enigmatic vibe. Your eyes literally put a spell on people. All the girls talk about it.”

“Really?” This, of course, thrills me.

“Yeah! They’re all intrigued by you. And, of course, they’d rather give you a lap dance instead of some gross lurky man.”