ON THE LINE
Joe Roland
twenties to thirties
Dev, a blue collar guy, is talking to his buddies about the power and the beauty of women's legs.
I love legs. I'm not saying I'm a legman. That would be crass. But rhere is a power, a true and real power thar a pair of beautiful legs wields over me. I can't breathe, my heart races, my palms sweat and I feci like I did right before I asked Alissa Liberati to the prom. On I he verge. Suddenly the universe and its possibilities no longer escape me. In fact it's just the opposite. In the presence of physical heauty suddenly everything makes sense. I am here to bear witness. Yes it's uue I have fallen in love with strippers, but not the ones at lh<.: places where you're charged twenty bucks to get in, twenty Bucks for some fruity fuckin' drink and they run a credit check if, god forbid, some girl should happen to wave her ass in your general
direction. No. These girls work in places with no cover, no frills and no upward mobility. This is the last house on the block for rhcse girls. And every once in a while there's this exquisite beauty, quiet, lonely, unobtrusive, you know, "Look at me if you want to, I'll be over here." And of course you can't look away. Because she served you coffee in the diner that morning, or she sat next to you on the bus, or checked your groceries or came to your door offering you a weekend with Jesus. She holds the irresistible lure of the attainable woman. It is love. It's as real as any other ... Who's to say whose love is better than the next guy's. Love is love.
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