The party was held in a refurbished warehouse. There was a band in one corner, guys carrying trays of hot hors d’oeuvres, and a cash bar. They had a hateful mime walking through the crowd. I was mad at myself for going, disappointed at the turnout, and pissed that I’d brought Louise, because she didn’t know anyone. When people asked about work I explained that the Mafia had hired me to do P.R. I acted like a prick to let them know there were better places to be, but at the same time I was forcing out jokes and clever observations because I wanted everyone to like me. That’s why I go to parties. Anyway, people like you better if they think you don’t like them.

Louise and I started bumming cigarettes off people. If they said yes we’d ask for four. And then she waved hello to this girl who was heading up to the bar. I couldn’t see her well because of how dark it was, but she stood over six feet, with silky, jet-black hair just above her shoulders and hanging around her face. She had on blue jeans and a T-shirt, a high, tight athlete’s ass, small knobby shoulders so that she was almost cocky-looking, but very skinny with those sharp hipbones that you can feel right under the bikini. It was too dark to see everything.

I wanted to have a chat with her. “Louisie,” I said, “when you go to the bathroom I need you to check my phone messages.”

“O.K.,” she said, and I handed her some money. She left, I went hustling up to the bar, wangled over to this chick, whipped on my best head fake and grin, and it was a man.

He had some high cheekbones, he wasn’t broad, maybe he could be one of those handsome, pretty male models you see in Calvin Klein ads. I don’t know—I’m not an expert on how guys look. Yes, right, a basically handsome guy. Up close, though, I saw that he needed a shave. He probably had had sexual relations with Louise sometime in the past—that’s why she waved.

He was a skinny dude with long hair, that’s all. Not a woman.

When Louise came back I told her—not that I went running over there but that when I saw him out of the corner of my eye I thought he was a chick. We screamed. I’m such a turkey sometimes I don’t know why the hell girls go out with me. That’s the real mystery.