OM:?In bed.
FEW:?Pardon?
OM:?In bed. I was finishing the sentence for you.
FEW:?Don’t do that.
OM:?Is sex painful for you?
FEW:?Only on a psychic level.
OM:?When was the last time you had sex?
FEW:?A few days ago.
OM:?With Luke?
FEW:?Yes, Om, with Luke.
OM:?It was an innocent question, believe it or not.
FEW:?I’ve never cheated on my husband and don’t plan to.
OM:?How would you feel about taking me through your experience?
FEW:?Do you only want to hear about the sex, or the whole evening?
“Every detail,” Greta said.
OM:?Whatever you like.
FEW:?It was last Saturday. He’d gone on a long hike, alone. He does most things alone or with the dog. He came home and zoned out in the living room. I wanted to go out for a drink, but he wanted to stay in and watch his weird videos. So, I made plans without him. I got dressed up—
OM:?What weird videos?
FEW:?[PAUSE] He doesn’t play video games, but he likes to watch videos of other people playing video games, sometimes for hours.
OM:?I’m not following.
FEW:?He’s obsessed with this video game about an office worker. The office worker wakes up at his desk and discovers that human civilization has ended and the world has been taken over by rabid animals. His new job is to walk through this office park and kill the animals, which are like monsters, really, with machetes. The graphics are very sophisticated and realistic. But he doesn’t play the game. He watches professional players who record themselves—who are paid to play, in fact—and they release their videos. His favorite player is some nerd from England. He can’t see the player sitting in front of his computer—he’s in the game, playing along with him. Except he’s not actually playing. He doesn’t even own the game.
OM:?But why doesn’t he buy the game and play it himself?
FEW:?Because he’s passive.
OM:?So, it’s sort of like watching sports. Football or whatever.
FEW:?Not quite.
“Way off,” Greta said.
FEW:?Sports are on television. Lots of people watch sports. I don’t think lots of people watch these videos. Or maybe they do—I don’t know. I don’t tell many people about this. I only put up with it because he works sixty hours a week. He’s a water engineer.
OM:?What else do you put up with?
FEW:?His need to drink milk with dinner. His penis. His flat, wide cow tongue. His clicking jaw. His collection of cutlery—
OM:?Back up—what was the first thing?
FEW:?Milk with dinner. Every single night for as long as I’ve known him. I don’t know why he can’t drink beer like an adult. Or wine. Or water.
OM:?I meant the second thing.
FEW:?Right.
OM:?His penis.
FEW:?Yeah, I remember.
OM:?Were you referring to his actual penis?
FEW:?As opposed to what?
OM:?His sexual behavior, or his libido.
FEW:?[PAUSE] His penis is two different colors.
OM:?What colors?
FEW:?Dark brown and white.
OM:?I see. This is a problem?
FEW:?For whatever reason, I wish it were either all brown or all white, not both. It’s like a saddle shoe.
OM:?You’re familiar with the term “body shaming”？
FEW:?Sorry. It’s like a beautiful, well-oiled saddle shoe.
OM:?Does he know how you feel?
FEW:?It’s not a big deal. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Can we talk about something else?
OM:?[PAUSE] What about milk with cookies—acceptable, or no?
FEW:?Om, I thought this was a “safe space” for my “journey.”
OM:?It is! I’m not judging you, believe me. I’m only trying to understand.
FEW:?I’m not here to talk about milk. Or penises. [PAUSE] Do you mind if we try an experiment?
OM:?Absolutely. I love experiments.
FEW:?I talk, you listen.
OM:?I’m listening.
FEW:?No—I talk, you don’t talk.
“Fuck yes,” Greta said.
FEW:?Can you manage it?
OM:?Quick question: you said he collects cutlery. Like, silverware?
FEW:?[LONG PAUSE] Shivs.
OM:?Shivs?
FEW:?He collects shivs confiscated from prisoners. He buys them at an antique shop in Hudson. They’re surprisingly expensive.
OM:?[PAUSE] Where does he keep them?
FEW:?In his pockets.
OM:?Really?
FEW:?Of course not! Can we start the experiment now?
OM:?We can try, but—you know, this isn’t psychoanalysis. I mean, that’s not how this works. What I’d like to help you discover—or recover, rather—is a sexual narrative that you gravitate toward. It doesn’t have to be pornographic. In fact, it might be primitive or antiquated. It might be more on the sensual or romantic side. A love scene from a classic film, maybe, or a passage from a novel—
FEW:?Are you saying this because I’m a woman?
“Yes,” Greta said.
OM:?No.
FEW:?You’ve suggested this to men? About novels?
“Never,” Greta said.
OM:?Of course. I have several male clients whose sexual stories come from books.
“Liar,” Greta said.
FEW:?Like what?
OM:?Well, like The Fermata, by Nicholson Baker.
Greta laughed. It was she who’d mentioned this novel to Om because, for better or worse, its sexual story spoke to her. Like Greta, the narrator of The Fermata was a transcriptionist. Unlike Greta, he had the power to stop time, during which he treated the women around him like dolls. He undressed them, posed them, groped and fondled them, and then he put their clothes back on, restarted time, and no one was the wiser. Well, except him, obviously.
FEW:?I don’t know what my sexual story is.
OM:?I can tell you mine—
FEW:?Please don’t.
OM:?It’s very short.
FEW:?I don’t want to hear it.
OM:?Fair enough. Let’s go back to your story about last Saturday.
FEW:?Fine. I went out for drinks with a friend. We sat in a booth. Two men at the bar bought us a round. My friend waved them over. We chatted with them for a few minutes. I wasn’t attracted to either of them, but I flirted a little. When I got home, I initiated sex, which I only do when I’ve had exactly two point seven glasses of wine, no more, no less.
OM:?How did you initiate?
FEW:?I got comfortable on the couch, complained about my period a little, and acted sleepy.
OM:?That’s your move?
FEW:?He’s more attracted to me when I’m drowsy.
OM:?But not unconscious.
FEW:?Just tired. And menstruating.
OM:?What does he like about period sex?
FEW:?The smell. The way it looks. He seems to want the bedroom to resemble a crime scene. He wants to see blood on the sheets, on his hands. Sometimes he smears it on his chest, or my chest, or he puts his hand around my throat, you know, just before—
OM:?He chokes you.
FEW:?Sort of.
OM:?Does he know about your… assault?
FEW:?It’s not violent. He’s otherwise very gentle. He lets people walk all over him. It’s hard to explain, but his roughness feels like a healthy impulse.
OM:?How’s the foreplay?
FEW:?Annoying.
OM:?Because it’s not long enough?
FEW: ?He’s too earnest.
OM:?I would think his flat, wide cow tongue might be useful, hint, hint.
FEW:?Don’t be disgusting.