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“You mean during sex?”
“I mean at all.”
He takes his eyes off the road completely. “Wait a sec—you’ve never had an orgasm?”
“God no, of course I have!”
“Oh, whew!” He mimes wiping the sweat from his brow.
“I just haven’t been able to for a while. It’s like when I moved to the city, I misplaced it somewhere between Fifth and Madison Avenue. No idea why. I even had a very humiliating conversation with my doctor and she said to be patient, that it’s probably stress-related. Everything is stress-related these days. But this is the least stressed I’ve been, and after you said you were so good, I thought maybe I’d find it again. But... yeah, still a no-show.”
“Oh.” I bet he’s regretting his question right about now.
“See, that look on your face. That’s why we fake it. It’s just cleaner. Simpler.”
We sit in silence for a moment too long. Like it or not, there’s nothing clean and simple about this tour anymore. Maybe Bernie was right.
