The Best Little Secrets Are Kept

I’d bought the Louis XIV CD at Amoeba. Probably because of the cover. We were doing a Vegas weekend and needed driving music. So I bought the CD. I usually bought used CDs, but this album had just come out and they didn’t have any used copies.

We’d just moved in together. Had a sublet in Los Feliz. Old art deco building on Loz Feliz Boulevard. We could walk to the bars and the restaurants and that theater on Vermont.

We could walk to The Greek.

We could go see Marty and Elayne at the Dresden.

We could dance at The Derby.

I didn’t dance. But she loved to dance. But she could go with her friends.

I’d had girls who were effectively living with me. But this was the first time it was official. The first actual “living together” situation.

On the day we moved in she told me (embarrassed and timidly) “I don’t know how I feel about you peeing with the door open.”

I thought, gee I guess I’m sharing this place with her now. And this is her place too. And yeah, I can’t pee with the bathroom door open anymore. And that’s when it was real.

That’s when I realized I was sharing my life with another person--and I was doing it under my own volition. And that this was real.

We listened to the Louis the XIV CD on the way up I-15.

Then in every restaurant and bar and by the pool and everywhere they were playing “Finding Out True Love Is Blind”.

It’s a great song. A little raunchy maybe. But that’s what makes it great.

I joked that it was “our” song.

“Hey they’re playing our song.” Like they put it on for just our arrival. Like they played it just for us.

I taught her to gamble for the first time. It was at the pool at the Hard Rock. They had a swim up bar. Maybe they still do. But they had blackjack by the pool too.

And they were playing “our” song.

The dealer was great--really cool guy. He found out it was her first time and walked her through it. And she won. Won big enough that it paid for the entire weekend.

We celebrated with dinner at... can’t remember which casino. Maybe it was the Belagio?

I had a nice suit. It wasn’t nice actually--it was a Calvin Klien separate I’d bought at Macy’s. I got it for my grandmother’s funeral. The pants were a little short. I looked a bit Wes Anderson. But it was black and slim and had narrow lapels and with my tan face and a white shirt I looked good

I looked especially good with her. I can’t remember the dress but it was black and slinky and her short blonde hair and makeup were perfect.

We walked through the casino floor on the way to the the restaurant and people were stopping to stare at us.

Like the prom king and queen had arrived.

Like we were movie stars.

It was an odd feeling. I was just out to dinner with my new live-in girlfriend. Why were they staring? Maybe they thought we’d just gotten married?