Read The Sex Was Great But... for Free Online Page A

in order to deal with the situation at hand without further interruptions.
    I didn’t really know what to do next, but I knew I had to do something. However innocent, I had inadvertentlybeen the catalyst for this street person’s mangled face. Profuse apologies seemed too shallow a gesture even for me. But what was I meant to do, or say? I was totally uncomfortable with the situation and there was no one on hand to delegate or advise.
    â€œIs this yours?” my street person’s colleague asked, holding up my diaphragm.
    Unsurprisingly I went a sort of puce color when I saw the tire mark on it. And, even though puce was the color I was about to tout as the next big thing, I knew it didn’t suit me.
    He looked at the diaphragm, then looked at me and smirked. “Only it looks pretty fucking big. Check it out Leo. Fucking huge or what?”
    Leo (my hero) to his credit didn’t acknowledge the question, but my humiliation was complete just the same. I suppose readers of Her Voice magazine would see my reaction as further evidence of my shallowness. That I could stand there in the middle of Vermont Avenue with two itinerants—one of whom had unselfishly run to my aid and taken a punch—and feel embarrassed about a mark on my contraceptive device. But embarrassed I was. I grabbed the rubber item guiltily and shoved it in my bag.
    â€œI think that wanker drove over it,” my street person’s accomplice offered—but it was glee, not regret, that I heard in his voice. He had a tattoo of a fly or something on his lip, and a distinct lack of front teeth. Compared to him, my street person looked positively sophisticated.
    Leo cuffed his colleague about the head affectionately. “Give it a rest, now will you?”
    Later, sitting on the curb outside Vinyl Fetish, Leo triedto stem the flow of blood from his face with my freshly dry-cleaned and favorite cardigan. I suggested that I should take him to the E.R. to get his nose looked at.
    Both Leo and his colleague laughed. When I asked why they found a trip to the E.R. so hilarious, they explained that as they had no health insurance and no ID, let alone anything so vital in this great and wonderful land as cash, the E.R. was not an option for them.
    It was a sobering thought. I mean, you hear politicians talk about health care, and what it means to be without it, but here was the evidence first hand. I am so glad I am a Democrat.
    â€œWow, I never thought of that,” I told them. “Gee. No ID—that’s, like, so amazing? What about a license? A passport? You must have passports if you’ve come from—”
    â€œNope,” they assured me. “Nothing!”
    â€œNothing?”
    â€œZero,” added Leo’s colleague. I was so not warming to this guy.
    â€œBut that’s incredible. How do you exist?” The two of them fell apart with laughter at my question.
    â€œHey Leo man, is this chick like a wardrobe into another world or what?” the offensive beggar joked. “‘How do you exist without ID?’” he mimicked cruelly. “Hey, Leo, do you think if we walk through her we’ll end up in, like, Narnia or something?”
    They chuckled some more at my expense, but I didn’t blame them, even though having been close to penniless and ID-less myself moments ago I didn’t really think it was a laughing matter. I guess once you hit the streets like these guys you take your humor where you find it.
    Ten minutes later we were still sitting on the curb. I didn’t really feel totally comfortable about it, but I didn’t think it would be appropriate to just get up and leave either. Not after all their help. I tried to think what Nancy would do in this situation but drew a blank. Nancy didn’t get into situations; Nancy created situations and then dragged other people into them with her.
    Since waking up this morning my life had taken off on a totally random