Audrey Kovár

I was 20 when I met you in the parking lot of a Fred Meyer. The boys told me you had fleas and I scooped you up and put you into Chris’ Volkswagon and took you right to the pet store to get that sorted. Over the next few months you became one of the boys, getting thrown off the bed only to jump back on for more, putting up with house parties and whatever randoms we collected from Government camp. I was constantly worried about you getting out or getting stepped on or who knows what but everybody loved you. Everybody. 

When it was time to move back to the east coast, you came with us. You really never had a choice in the matter. You saw the pacific ocean, Big Sur, almost got attacked by a Dutch Shepard, saw the waves in San Diego, a small weed farm, a corner suite at the Palms in Vegas, the hottest apartment I think we’ve ever experienced in Kansas City MI, the Atlantic Ocean and the Outer Banks and actual children for the first and few times, a pool house on long island and eventually Brooklyn.

You had several sisters and put up with them all like a true big brother. You survived Chris’s antics for several months without me while I recollected back in PA and moved with me 4 times after that. You ate my pretzels and demanded treats in the morning. You hugged me and kneaded mine and more than a few others shoulders. You sat on my lap during therapy sessions with Hank. You sat on my chest and judged me intensely after one night stands while demanding head scratches. 

I have never spent more time with a living creature in my life. As it turns out, as romantic as his namesake was at the time I chose it or even throughout his life, when the time came I didn’t want him to turn into a 15 year old boy from the 1600s. I just wanted him to stay my 16 year old man and forever Baby Binx. 

My favorite aunt; my blue-eyed sister who feels the world; my bus ride crush with the baggy pants; my 9th grade boyfriend with the broken jaw; my 10th grade obessession that “ruined my life;” my takeout makeout partner in crime; my casual mentor with mystical powers; and my mid-western rock.

Every year I struggle to remember your birthday. I always want to say that it’s Sept 26. I think maybe I just remember when you turned 26 for some reason. I go back and forth between Virgo and Libra. Which one were you? Even though your real birthday and the one I made up would both have you as a Libra - so sensitive. But then again, so are Virgos and none of that stuff is actually real.

I did this before too.I just was always too embarrassed to ask - like when you’ve known a person for so long without actually knowing their name and at some point it’s just too late to ask. I feel like you always remembered mine.

It was during the 18 months or so that I almost made it in Manhattan. I was at that basement bar w/ a model friend of mine who was wearing a Cheap Trick t-shirt. A group of dudes walked in, including a Julian Casablanca look alike and a young Robert Smith Doppelgänger (that was you.) “Julian” (or was it actually Julian?) walked away with my gal pal and I was stuck there talking to this paler-than-me, kinky-black-haired, quiet boy.

When we both realized our friends were canoodling indefinitely and decided it was time to go home, I made it clear I’d be going home with you. I wasn’t expecting anything. There was just something so intriguing about your dismissive laugh and lazy suspenders...and I had nowhere else I needed to be. I was young and drunkenly confident that this thirty-something-year-old stranger would be happy to have me in his bed - a bed that was undoubtedly more comfortable than than my own.

With odd reluctance that only heightened my fascination, you conceded. When we arrived at your west village apartment you tried to make me pay for the cab. I laughed. You weren’t kidding. We ended up splitting it.

After we finally entered your 8th floor walk up, you started arranging your ornate and extremely uncomfortable couch for me to sleep on.

This time, I absolutely protested. Your excuse was that I was “so young.” In retrospect, I was probably kind of annoying. But you were kind of a dick. In the end I won. We snuggled and even made out a little.

That was about as far as it went. There was definitely an unspoken tension, but I can honestly say, we’ve had one of the most barely PG13 rated friendships of anyone I’ve locked lips with as an adult.

Since that night, we’ve discussed steak snatching; attended a premiere or two; created a murderer with a Pez dispenser calling card; plotted the stealing of a famous hotel’s door mat (that may or may not have eventually happened); and held a decent conversation with Matt Damon.

Oscar Night

I can hear my mom put me on speaker phone as she enters the bathroom and changes while talking to me about a vacuum cleaner...possibly.

“Oh, what movie are you gonna watch?” She interjects.

“The Master.” I instinctively say louder.

“The monster?” She asks, echoed but distant.

“No, mom. The Master. I’m pretty sure it was at least nominated for an award at some point.” I yell into the receiver.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it’s a Paul Thomas Anderso....”

“Jennifer Anniston?!? Jennifer Anniston is in-“

“No, Paul. Thomas. Anderson. The director,” I over articulate as she continues to move what sounds like sand paper over her cell phone.

Coming down, half asleep/half awake and I kept murmuring, “Shuttup, Bailey. Shuttup,” thinking that my friend’s demon chihuahua was in the room licking itself. Then I remembered that there was two other people in bed with me. It was a pretty alright birthday.

I’m so over being the cool girl. I’m sick of being chill. I’m sick of saying, “all good, no worries.”

I’m tired of giving you the benefit of the doubt.

I don’t want to pretend like there were never any feelings when you were the one that said it first.

I don’t wanna be the cool girl anymore.

As sat sobbing over a homeless man on the subway, not even bothering to put my sunglasses on, it suddenly occurred to me: I had been a huge cunt the day before.

PMS, combined w/ the sweltering New York heat and humidity and my least favorite bar in Brooklyn, had been an absolute horrible combination. I shouldn’t have even left the house let alone attempted to socialize with someone I was trying to fuck.

Valerie, the “Eastern European” dancer asks w/ what’s probably her best Eastern European accent, “Are you two best friends?” I tilt my head back and over giving him a side-eye before responding with a smirk. “Kind of.”

“Aw, it’s so nice to have best friends.” She says with sickening sweetness.

“Well, we don’t really have any other friends and as it is, we have to bribe each other w/ sex, showers, and strip clubs to get the other one to visit.”

I smile, returning her saccharine.

She turns around.

He doesn’t hear a lot of what I say except when she leaves and I comment, “Well, she was annoying.”

One time I told you I loved you.

But you were sleeping so it doesn’t count.

His teeth bite down on his lower lip just a little longer than he normally might, so that when he finally releases the puffy, slightly chapped lip, it flips out. Despite the force behind it, that first soft consonant is almost inaudible compared to the compact harshness of the last two, as the back of his tongue hits the roof of his mouth and a burst of pressure is released. His lips remain parted. He stares downward, lost in thoughts about four-paneled hats and tote bags.

Kirk left yesterday. 

I have a hard time lying lately. I wanted to say today. I wanted to write this yesterday. 

I didn’t.

So, my shower buddy left yesterday. And not as in, “we showered together.” No, he just used my shower and then would spend the night.

I was worried one time when he got a gym membership that he wouldn’t come back. But a week later he did.”If you want any company later….” But he still showered first. Because I imagine my shower’s still better than the gym’s.

Anyway, he left yesterday. Moved back to Ohio. I wish I could say he promised to come back but he just said he would. No promise.

I’m gonna take a shower and try to do something with my life.

Helped save a dog from a pond

Saw Imelda Staunton, Imogen Poots and Lord Varys in “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?”

Explained to my date why it was called “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?”

Looked up why it’s called “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?”

Met the finnish Michael Pitt

Bummed a rolly from some gothy Germans who DID NOT let me sit with them

Ate part of a cookie

Ate veal for the second time in my life

Smoked weed

Drank beer

Took a nap in a hammock

Got lost in a club

Gave a really quick hand job

Left someone speechless

Was told I was irresistable

Heard the same stories twice

Was gifted socks

Ripped my new fur coat

Bought a fur coat from the hottest guy I saw in London

Saw some drag queens

Watched RuPaul’s drag race

Watched cats

Did not let cats out

Got locked out of my apartment

Chain smoked cigarettes with Stoya in her room at the Regent Hotel

Saw Ilynn’s gallery opening

Gave my number and instragram to a bartender

Apologized to the same bartender

Saw Olive the dog

Did coke, speed, Molly, and the Macarena

Cried in a bar

Cried in a cab

Cried in a house

Cried in a club

Cried in a car

Cried in a bed

Cried in a park

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Danced to dub step

Put eyeliner on a dude

Put mascara on the same dude

Ate a popsicle in the shape of a dick and then threw it into the bushes

Got yelled at for throwing a dick-shaped popsicle into the bushes

Peed on a church

Saw Anton Newcombe

Pole danced and didn’t get payed

Made out and slow danced with a guy I put mascara on

Got caught in the rain

Fell asleep on a hasidic woman

Took some xanax

Watched some english dating shows

Drank capt morgan

Drank red wine

Drank real champagne

Cried in front of a Monet

Played trivia

Sat in a treehouse

Snuggled with a guy with a stutter

Talked to an irish guy named Mark at the airport

Made friends with a guy called Bananas at Wild At Heart

Drank absinthe

Asked too many people to roll me cigarettes

Met a young model named Lily

Met an incredible artist/collector from Italy

Saw the sunset

Saw the sunrise

Slept

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Met a guy that reminded me of Ramsay from GoT

Saw him eat sausage

Saw a guy peeing that looked like Sam from GoT

Saw lots of guys and one girl peeing

Saw a girl passed out on May 1st but someone said he was a doctor

Made out in an old bus

Had drinks paid for

Paid for my own drinks

Tried to get into a brothel (it was closed)

Tried to get into the Kit Kat Club (it was closed)

Texted my roommate and told her I missed her

Rolled my eyes

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Rolled my eyes

Yelled at someone with red hair

Yelled at someone with grey hair

threatened to leave for the airport 12 hours before my flight

Looked into flights to Barcelona

Looked into flights back to London

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Bought a Latex bra

Ate chocolate and Prosecco for breakfast

Ate bread for breakfast

Ate nothing for breakfast

Forgot kids aren’t supposed to talk to strangers

Scared away a little kid 

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Drank more Prosecco

Smoked more cigarettes

Rolled my eyes

Ate fish and chips

Someone made me dinner

Cried on a plane watching Nocturnal Animals

Cried on a plane watching Nocturnal Animals

Apologized

Said I’m sorry

Said thank you 

Learned how to say “danke schoen”

Felt happy

Felt guilty

Felt at home

Felt lonely

Saved a soccer ball from going into the street

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Was told I looked tired

Was asked if I had a gag reflex

Had dinner with over 1000 people in an abandoned radio station warehouse

Laughed out loud

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Saw some deer, camels, ponies, baby goats and llamas

Felt uncomfortable

Snuggled in anger

Talked about threesomes

Tried to buy condoms

Ate popcorn

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Dreamt about foxes but never saw one.

-"I really love Lost Boys."

-"I'm in a punk band that one or two of your friends has heard of."

-"I like boys. Lots of em."

-"I like girls. Lots of em."

-"I like lots of girls and boys."

-"I don't really like anyone."

-"I'm queer."

-"I'm straight."

-"I'm whatever you want me to be."

-"Sleep with me."

-"I'm an 80s vampire."

-"I'm friends with 80s vampires."

-"I'm billy idol."

-"Sleep with me."

-"I'm unique."

-"I'm bringing it back."

-"I lost my other earring."

-"Fuck you."

-"Fuck me."

-"We already fucked."

he said. More to himself than anyone else. As if he’d repeated it a hundred times throughout his life. Almost involuntarily repeating the mnemonic that he was told 30 something years ago.

I’ve repeated it a hundred times since. No mnemonic necessary.