The next day, Simon Piperstock made several calls from the first— class lounge at Kennedy International Airport. One of them was to a young woman he'd dated several years ago.
"I'm on my way to Seattle," Simon said. "I'm not good."
"Really." The woman sounded almost happy about it.
"For some reason, everybody is telling me that my behavior is reprehensible. They say it's disgusting."
"Do you think it's disgusting?"
"A little bit."
"I see."
"My relationship with Mary isn't working out, so I took a beautiful young girl, a friend of mine, to this party. She's a nice girl. And she's a friend. And everybody was on my case about it."
"Your relationships never work out, Simon."
"Then I ran into a woman at the theater who I'd been fixed up with a couple of years ago. And I wasn't really interested in her, so we became friends. She came up to me and she said, 'You know, I would never want to get involved with you. I would never want any of my friends to be involved with you. You've hurt too many women. "
"You have."
"What am I supposed to do? I suffer from the problem of never thinking that I've met the right person. So I take people out. Jeez. Everybody's done it." There was a pause. "I was sick yesterday," Simon said.
"That's too bad," the woman said. "Did you wish you had someone to take care of you?"
"Not really," Simon said. "I mean, I was only sick for a httle bit. . Damn it. Yes. It's true. I did think about it. Do you think I have a problem? I'd hke to see you. Talk about it. Maybe you can help me."
"I have a serious boyfriend now," the woman said. "I think maybe we're going to get married. Frankly, I don't think he'd appreciate it if I was seen out with you."
"Oh," Simon said. "Okay."
"But if you want to call, feel free."