Facebook

Table of contents

Don’t trust the bitch ii.13

On friendship & trust

One evening, the girls rush to their apartment, terrified by Eli’s news of an intruder. – Chloe’s private investigator. The man has a flair for the dramatic; it is too late for him to be a noir movie hero, so he can just tell Chloe’s tale. When first she moved to New York, she met a woman as bitchy as herself – they learned to respect each other, not only as enemies, but as warriors against people they did not like.

But soon as Chloe disclosed her dreams of being a ‘foot ho’ on a silly popular music show on TV, that woman stole her dream, then disappeared. Chloe then conceived a new dream, to destroy the woman’s ear drums with horrible metal shrieks. Now she’s found her. Dead. Only dreams can deliver justice.

This would make a good final episode: Chloe’s dream, in which she can accomplish her initial dream. Her plan is simple & efficient: Attract the cameraman’s attention by flirting, then invent some new dance, then look at the host as though his opinion is immaterial. Then Chloe can sit at the host’s feet & look upon mankind in contempt. This is a recipe for heartbreak: Attract attention, reward it by suggesting pleasure, then cruelly deny it.

If hope is grounded in despair of the world’s indifference, this is the way to rule. Chloe, however, learns by degrees that she can trust June. We remember that the first thing they learned about each other was that they could hurt each other, which is one requirement of association between similars or rough equals. Chloe, with the help of a strange woman who can play Spanish guitar songs exquisitely, learns to tell June about herself.

Somehow, Mark’s date with June depends on June hearing a phone message. The phone requires a password. The password turns out to be Chloe’s measurements, nearly the hourglass silhouette. Either Chloe’s imperfection or her shape is the key. Chloe is so superficial it is wonderful June did not figure this out for herself. Her idealism maybe blinded her. Body is Chloe’s idealism.

James finds out from his mother that the man he thought was his father is not his father. This is no crisis. That guy is a soft, bland creature. He treats his wife’s promiscuity as a prank played on him, deservedly. Further, the woman is sure one of seven actors is the father. James is not moralistic about these things. He’s just hopeful, maybe his father had some real talent. Inheriting from his mother is not mentioned. Chloe persuades him, his father must be this other white guy on TV who played wholesome, vaguely noble characters. Their foreheads are similar, James wisely notes…