Lisa Carver and Nerve.com
Poor Jerry Hall
Dear Diary: I’m on Dave’s laptop, wearing his clothes and lying in his bed. This morning he called from New Orleans and said he’s coming home from tour early, and I foolishly jumped in my car and made the one-hour trip to Boston even though it’s going to take him at least twelve hours to drive here. I let myself in with the spare key and now I’m all alone in his apartment. I feel like Mata Hari or just a plain old stalker. These waiting moments are long and lovely and smooth. I’m wired with electricity but my limbs are in a sort of torpor. My thighs rub together very, very slowly under the blankets.
I wonder what Jerry Hall is doing right now. Surely she loved Mick this much, and look what he did to her flaunting himself on the pages of People magazine with all those bozo-floozies, embarrassing Jerry. And now she’s left with five kids all on her own. If Mick Jagger tried to take me on a date, I’d whip him in the face! Then I’d go find Jerry and, when the kids were at school, I’d chase her around the house and make her feel young again. When I caught her I’d go down on her and not ask for anything in return. I don’t care that she’s stupid and has a deplorable accent. Sometimes you just gotta be nice, you gotta right the wrong.
I’ve forgotten, in the three weeks he’s been gone, what Dave looks like. I have photographs, but it’s like looking at photos of yourself you can’t figure out the meaning of your own features on a piece of paper. You try to read your looks instead in other people’s reactions to you. I remember his eyes, because they’re like the eyes of the statue of the Madonna at the church I pass every morning. Actually, they look like Madonna Ciccone’s too. I’ve been bringing different features to life in the twilight a waggishly arched eyebrow here, a suede-smooth stomach there (hey, foot, get out of here I didn’t ask for you!). I can’t get them all together into a body. I have the strangest sensation of not being able to remember myself, either. I am only disembodied parts now too, and only his body on top of mine can bring them all together again.