Standing at the bathroom door in oblivion, not oblivious to this total stranger. He was laughing a lot. Everyone was there together, doing their personal in private. He was stopping them on their way out, asking them to bend their heads forward for a second. He'd say 'hi, could you just bend your head forward a second?' and they would. If they had long hair, he'd sweep it down off their neck, give the neck a soft, light wipe, sprinkle on some yellowy powder from his satin pouch, then sniff it up and say, 'thanks. Sorry i had to do it behind your back.' i said he must see a lot of necks. He said 'this is just the beginning, you watch.' i said i might do that, but for now i had to find somebody. 'Anybody?' he said. 'No no, somebody.' and i slipped out of his grasp. Possessive possessed, for a stranger.
Anyway, someone was nowhere to be seen and you can't be seen to be looking to long. Not at your own party. Even if you don't care when people stare. When they're looking they're watching. There's only one thing worse than watching and that's being watched. And i'd had enough of both, so i thought i'd go back to the bathroom door to see what was cooking, or who was being hoovered.
And i found him there, hysterical. He was laughing now, louder than before, almost on the floor. Had them coming out the door, the gate crashers and drink splashers, he had them bending over, lifting the shirts up their spines, doing lines along their vertebrae. 'Crawl on' he'd say choking with laughter, 'crawl on, you'll be wriggling after.'
His face was soaked with tears, his nose and lips caked coked choked. I smiled and asked him what was so funny, more concerned than curious now. He wasn't fitting in
He said, 'it's like evolution ending. The message i'm sending from this tongue in a mouth on a tear stained face has a place in your siamese psyche. I can tell you like me. You're like me. The stillborn twins of dread and dispair, the viewer and the viewed. Surveillance is all around us - the only thing worse than watching is being watched.'
I said 'i know. I was just thinking exactly the same thing.' i know he said, 'i was watching. From a respectable distance of course. 'Of course', i said 'you wouldn't want to been seen seeing. Why do you like them bending over?'
'People travel', he said 'of course they do. As long as we've been, we've been moving. We go to alska, nebraska, calcutta, all over. We move. But wherever we go some things never escape us. They stay the same. The same question keeps asking itself. Keeps demanding an answer - is evolution ending? Is this the end of evolution? When daughters give birth to their mothers, uncles become brothers. This is reverse evolution. That's moving backwards. Evolution ending. Maybe, only maybe , we've reached the end of the loop. Evolution. Evolotion. Calamine makes me feel fine. Smooth and slippery soft on the skin, a calming calamine effect when you're fucked. When your evolution's ending. When you've given up pretending.'
'The descent of man?' i asked. 'The descent of the decent. The decent precedent.' he replied, barely smiling now. I could tell he meant it, meant well.
'I'm only helping them on their way back.' he said. 'So soon? Some of them just got here,' i said, ever the hostess. 'Don't worry, this is just a dress rehearsal, my own private view. Evolution's ending, but not tonight'...