90th email

From: Dom Borax
To: Stacey Marchenkova
Sent: Tuesday 26th, 1999 11:32AM
Subject: RE RE RE RE RE RE RE RE Matrix and Election

Stacey,

God, last weekend was so far away.

Friday we went out with some of Elsa’s friends from the dance company she works for.

Dance types can certainly drink.

It was fun though. Not much conversation but come 3:00am they took over the dance floor. Elsa was the lead. Everyone wanted to dance with her. I wanted to dance with her. But I was quite far back in the queue. So I danced with Anyone instead.

Can you believe it? Amazing what vodka, jealousy and lust can make you do.

Saturday was a quite day. It was nice not having to entertain an odd man in our Kitchen. I think Elsa feels a little lost without a stranger wandering nude.

So I changed my name, put on a homeless hat and stripped down to make her feel comfortable.

My God, I’ve become the strange man in my own Kitchen!

Anyway for the rest of the day Elsa and I had a quietee. She’s not much of a talker – more a sleeper. Funny how I thought that was endearing a few weeks ago.

I cooked a big breakfast – at 3:00pm

And at dinner time and we watched a couple of movies. Elsa really likes dance movies so we watched The Red Shoes and The Turning Point. I liked The Red Shoes (fell asleep during The Turning Point)

Sunday we had dinner at her folks. I’ve known them for a while and Sunday roast is a ritual. We didn’t tell them that we were seeing each other though – still played the "just friends" game.

It was kinda awkward because the evening’s focus of conversation turned to Elsa’s romantic life with suggestions from all of her family about who she could possibly date.

Her mother thinks she should date a doctor; an Irish doctor; an Irish catholic doctor.

Her father thinks she should become a nun.

And her brother, Kieran, suggested -- me.

Kieran:Elsa should marry Dom as they are already kinda married.

There was a strained moment of silence.

I looked at Elsa. She looked at me. But before we could respond; both of her parents burst out laughing.

This was extremely awkward as this gesture made it apparent how her parents thought of me as a suitor.

After the laughter the brief conversation went something like this:

Elsa’s Mother: Actually Dom, if you changed your degree to medicine – you could be in with a chance.

Elsa’s Father: Dom, finish your potatoes.

Elsa’s Mother: And there’s some Irish blood in you, isn’t there?

Elsa’s Father: Dom would you like some more wine?

Elsa’s Mother: And I’m sure I’ve seen you at mass.

Elsa’s Father: Dom, would you like me to give you a lift home, tonight?

Elsa and I said nothing.

I have to confess that after we cleared the dishes we did duck into her old room and made out. But Elsa has a lot of dolls. Freaky dolls from all over the world. They are all lined up on one side, facing the bed.

And as we kissed, I felt they were watching me; especially the one from East Germany – who was taking notes and reporting us to her father.

So that was the weekend.


Dom