who would you rather meet, STZ asks, michelle or barack?
we've been doing a circuit, around our places in london.
paul to CG to the southbank and back to CG, to the martini bar to which we went the first night we hung out together in london waaaaaaay back in january 2013, when i was new and naive and impoverished and enormously relieved to hear her say that everyone struggles to financially survive in london.
on three separate occasions during this adventure, i repeat, see, this is why we need more stories of women!!
we are, of course, talking about women and about being women and about working as a woman and living abroad as a woman and writing as a woman and why women suck because we are a part of our own problem. we are talking about the many ways in which we shut ourselves up.
two martinis later, we're at benitos when STZ asks me this question. who would i rather meet- michelle or barack?
and i say i do not know and ask which she'd prefer.
michelle, she says. because with michelle i could relax. with barack, i'd have to be a woman meeting a man.
what about with hillary, if she'd won? i ask, and she says, of course, that would be different.
our eyes meet over our margaritas and our hearts sink.
yeah, STZ says, resigned as she hands me a napkin. it's happening. it's every day now.
we have lost something we've not yet had.