Dating : White Hero

1. The first time we sleep together, John the bartender holds my orange underwear in his right hand and says, You’re very obedient, aren’t you? and in a tequila haze I say, Yes.

2. Looking back now I think John the bartender had a fetish. It is possible I do too.

3. When General MacArthur left the Philippines in 1942 and made his famous speech[1]saying, “I shall return,” a line that to this day still makes my father[2]burst into tears — he made a promise to the Filipinos that they were seen and would not be forgotten.

4. I can’t help but think that we, as a people[3], still operate on this promise today, waiting for the white hero to rescue us.

5. Before we go to sleep, John the bartender puts his head near mine, and I feel the loneliness between two single New Yorkers. And because we are older[4], we are quiet.

6. I remember lying next to him, a Saturday a few weeks later, near noon, telling him my mom has an appointment at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center.

7. Upon having her remaining breast checked in SC, Mom’s been told there are calcifications “of concern,” so she’s on a last-minute flight to come to NYC and get a second opinion.

8. Does she want to stay here? John the bartender asks, moving the hair in my face to behind my ear. I laugh — he doesn’t mean it.[5]But when I look at him, I think it’s quite possible he does.

9. And what exactly would I tell my mother, who is now minus one breast? Hey, Ma, take a cab to the building on the northeast corner of 70thand 2nd. It’s where the bartender I’m fucking lives; I’ll meet you there. No, he’s not my boyfriend[6], but I have a key. Don’t worry it’s a nice apartment, and it’s just four blocks from the cancer center.

10. Maybe, I say. Then I kiss his collarbone and turn to fall back asleep.