“She looks at him, limp as a wet valentine. His kilowatt eyes, turned up full blast, meet hers and, in a horrible rush, the sloshing wetness of his mouth covers her lips, and his tongue sticks itself half way down her throat.”
—
Mary Gaitskill’s very first published story, “Something Better Than This,” is up on Fictionaut. Ahhh. (h/t Electric Literature).
I was 22 when I wrote this. I can’t remember where it came from except that I did actually sell rhodium jewelry on Yonge St. in Toronto in the mid-70s and it was one of those occupations that could make an already crabby person insanely misanthropic. Looking at it now, the story seems so misanthropic (albeit skittishly so) that I almost want to apologize to the universe on Susan’s behalf. But at the time, I imagine I just thought keeping my sense of humor up. And I probably was.
