Dreams of a Robot Dancing Bee by James Tate Page A

on a date. Ha!”
    â€œOkay, but I can only stay a couple of hours.” For the rest of the shift Diane tried to put it out of her mind, but in fact she was apprehensive and she didn’t really know why. She liked Miriam.
    She had rarely ever been in that part of town, and it was a bit scary in the dark. There were drunks asleep in alleys, and what she took to be pimps and hoodlums sizing everybody up as they drove by. The fear tinkling in the pit of her stomach was also excitement, excitement for the unknown and for the sense of dangerand adventure that these sleazy, rough late-night street people aroused in her. Diane’s parents would have died if they had known where their daughter was.
    Miriam’s apartment was another kind of shock: it was so dreary. Everything was faded pink and grey and dark green. The over-stuffed chair in the corner was hardly any color at all, and the couch sagged and looked like one one would see discarded at the dump. “That’s where Greta sleeps,” Miriam said pointing to the couch. “I’ve got the only bedroom. In here,” she said, crossing the living room.
    Miriam’s room had a full-sized mattress on the floor and a pair of matching chairs with yellow plastic seats. But what caught Diane’s eye first were the posters of nude or bikini-clad women on all the walls. She looked at each of them in turn with growing puzzlement.
    â€œI’m not a dyke, if that’s what you’re thinking. My god, you of all people should know that, from what I’ve told you. I just like to see other women’s bodies, to compare, you know, to see how I’m doing.”
    â€œOh I never thought you were a dyke, give me a break. I’ve just never looked at naked pictures before. Of men or women. Maybe once my brother showed me a magazine, but I didn’t really look. I thought it was, you know, forbidden.”
    â€œWell, there’s no time like the present. I’ve got stacks of nudie magazines in my closet.”
    Miriam immediately produced one such stack and the two of them sat on Miriam’s bed and proceeded to look through them, Diane’s curiosity sparked sufficiently to join in commenting on every variation of breast size and curve.
    â€œI wish I had really dark nipples like that,” Miriam said, “large and very dark. You’ve got nice long legs, by the way, I’ve been meaning to tell you that. Men like long legs. Mine should be about two inches longer to go with my torso, you know what I mean?”
    â€œI think you have nice legs. Besides, looks aren’t everything.” Miriam looked at her as if she were insane.
    â€œBetter that the breasts aren’t too big, because then men will only like you when you’re young. After twenty-five, forget it. Dump city.” Diane had large breasts herself, but didn’t take this as an insult. Miriam couldn’t know just how large they were, not from those uniforms they were forced to wear at the nursing home, and they hadn’t really seen one another outside of work until tonight. She felt a bit wicked looking at all those naked women, discussing their curves and such. What different worlds she and Miriam lived in. She wasn’t sure if it was actually exciting or just interesting. For the moment it didn’t matter. “Do you want to see mine?” Miriam asked Diane.
    â€œYour what?” Diane truly didn’t know what she meant.
    â€œMy breasts, of course. Do you want to compare?”
    â€œNo. At least not tonight.” Diane wanted to hurt Miriam just a little bit and added, “I’ve got a lot on my mind. I’m trying to decide which scholarship to accept. I have offers from five universities.”
    And Miriam felt the blow. She asked her guest if she would like some Sloe Gin and Diane felt forced to accept.
    When Miriam was in the kitchen, Diane looked around the room and realized that she could never be friends with