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What tomorrow? Allen is bustling in, reclaiming the physical domain of the kitchen, pacing to the fridge, pouring himself a fresh glass. Nothing, Carol says. She leans in to give him a quick peck on the cheek as she exits. With a growl of contentment, Allen cha-chas the refrigerator door closed with his butt. Interesting stuff, he says. Nice girl, C.J. says in as neutral a tone as he can muster. I'm not talking about Carol. You thought I was talking about Carol? Allen is three steps away from him, two, one. What's going on with you and Carol? Um... 
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Allen laughs and gives him a rough slap to the shoulder. Just playing, man. Although she is fine, believe it. I can never go back to American women. You know why? No. But I'm sure you'll tell me, he adds under his breath. Taiwanese women are unburdened. Simple as that. He ignites another cigarette with a certain willfulness that suggests another speech is coming. My first and only wife? Great in bed, and a complete lunatic out of it. Probably sexually abused when she was a kid. To her, men were all pigs. Oh, she would say, "Not all men," but she'd say it in that way that you knew, yeah, you mean all men. Then she'd go on and on about her theory that men only mature up until they're 14, and then they start devolving and pretty soon they're acting like 8-year olds for the rest of their lives, and if  |
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