***

“Where were you last night?” Bette asked as I slumped over my coffee at The Planet. I liked familiarity and there was something really nice about me and Bette, just the two of us, having coffee at our regular table on a Sunday morning.

I yawned. “Milk. Did you call me or something?”

“Yeah, don’t you check your messages?”

“I’m a ne’er-do-well slacker type, you know.”

Bette laughed. “I was just calling to ask you about your birthday and what you wanted.”

“You. Naked.”

“Al.”

I shot her a weak smile. “It’s a couple weeks. I’ll think it over.”

“You okay?” I shrugged and she shook her head, smiling at me. “I take it your night at Milk was successful.”

“Depends on what you mean by successful.”

“Well, it seems you successfully got drunk and now you’re successfully hung-over.”

I nodded. “I was successful all over the place.”

Bette looked confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think it means?”

She looked at me for awhile, eyes narrowed, and then she nodded. She smiled slowly. “See, it’s people like you who make me hate Milk. It’s some sort of den of debauchery for people seeking anonymous *****.”

I pretended to think. “Does it count as anonymous ***** if you know the girl’s name?”

Bette stared at me with a small trace of a smile and finally said, “Guess not.”

“Ah, good.”

“Are you gonna see her again?”

“Maybe.” I shrugged. “She left really early for some… Sunday callback or whatever, but I did get her number.”

“For what? Don’t tell me she’s an actress-I’ll leave.”

I snickered.

Bette looked at me distastefully. “I can’t believe you slept with an actress. What happened to your morals?”

I lifted my hand in a thumbs-down sign. “Down the drain, I know. Listen.” I sat up. I felt better after the caffeine and maybe now was a good time to clear the air. “I’m really sorry about-like, I know I’ve been really hostile toward you lately, and… I don’t know. I’m just sorry.”

Bette sighed. “I think we’re both just…” But she trailed off and refused to articulate exactly what we both just were.