“Where is Kineret Street?” I asked the girl walking her dog in Neve Tzedek at night. She told me that she lived there, so I said that I’d be happy to see her apartment and get a sense of the local style of living, as I was looking for a place in the area. So we went back to her place. She offered me coffee, then cookies, then a cigarette, then some whiskey. She lay down next to me on the bed and we locked gazes. She lit a cigarette, and I lit one. She leaned back, and I leaned on the pillow. She stuck her tongue out to lick the crumbs from her lips, and I stuck my tongue out too, as if I had crumbs on my lip. The inspection was complete — I could leave here with my ego enhanced. I got in close, and that’s when she said she wasn’t interested. So I ask you: how could this not drive me crazy? Smart and silly, hilarious and depressing, deep and shallow, childish and mature. This is the author, this is the book, this is life.
