As I enter the library the following evening, the grandfather clock chimes 9:00. I arrive half an hour early. I am delighted to see that Rosie has also come early. “So what have you decided?” Rosie asks with a pleading hope in her anxious eyes. “I decided yes, Yes, YES! I’m entirely at the disposal of my sweet damsel in distress.” And with this Rosie jumps off the sofa and throws her arms around my neck.
I, in turn, wrap my arms around her slim waist and lift her up and swing her around softly singing, “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey.” “Oh no, mister, it’s YOU that make ME happy,” she says in a rough, guttural voice. At that moment, a patron in the library lets loose with a warning hiss, “Shhhhhhhhhhhh!.” “Oh, oh, we’re in trouble,” I say with mock alarm. “Let’s get out of here and go to my place.
There we can talk without being disturbed.” Ten minutes later, we are sipping green tea sitting side-by-side on the little sofa in my bedroom. I’m telling her that I want to learn from her how to make love using the patterns of her beloved husband. She confesses that she was thinking along these same lines herself. “You are tall and handsome just like my husband
. You can be his avatar. I would like that and, more importantly, he would like that.” So we begin with “special words.” Rosie tells me, that whenever her husband is ready to make love, he begins by using the language of love. “Give me some specific words that he uses.”
“Well, he usually begins by saying, ‘Hey, you sweet little slut, get over here.’” “O.K. I hear you. Now say it using the volume and the intonations that he uses.” [At this point I’m borrowing some of the techniques that I learned in my psychodrama workshop.]
She says it using the intonations that sound like Clint Eastwood in his film, Hang ’Em High. I repeat it a few times and Rosie coaches me until I get it exactly right. [This is fun!] “What happens then?” I ask.