Carol was the most free individual I have ever known. She operated on "Carol's rules" and none else. Those rules became clear over time and became dear to me as we grew toward each other rapidly.When I got to know her she freely admitted to being pleasure seeking, pain avoiding and sex was her favorite pleasure. As long as no one got hurt, physically, mentally or emotionally, all was fair in love and sex, who needs war? Guilt over any past sexual experience was a waste of time. And finally it is almost as much fun to give pleasure as it is to receive it. There were other minor rules but they were less important.We dated after a fashion, more like just hanging together, we had decided we liked each other, and then spent a lot of time in bed together. Our first time was a golden bullet for me. The way it came about was unique in my somewhat limited experience too... We were sitting over coffee one morning at the Student Union Building before class. We had been in several classes. She was wearing dirty tennis shoes. I immediately identified her as a bona fide character that one found in the City a lot in those days. As she approached, he rose to meet her, a gentleman’s gesture, and it was apparent they were each one half of an ancient union, with the easy familiarity that decades of living together instills. My book of Bukowski rants was reduced to being a simple prop, behind which I hid as I observed this slice of marital life unfold before me. She started talking before she was even seated, with a theatrical boom and swell to her voice that seemed To echo off the trees and sidewalks of Central Park. She had a truly thick New Yorker accent, her lineage was possibly middle European, I guessed, but there was no doubt English was her second language. He took her hand and assisted her in sitting next to him, while she intoned uninterrupted on the dirtiness of the subway, the perverts who inhabited their neighborhood, the gossiping neighbors, the gossiping.
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