"When I feel like indulging my death drive, I make eye contact with strange men on the street. On Bleecker they let me look. On 110 W and 111th they do more than that. The trick is to orchestrate their attention without effort. The trick is not to care where that attention strikes. Most of them are always already looking for me anyway: short skirt and shagged hair. A woman with a smile but without a name. The perfect kind of dame. I once read an interview with a painter who said, by going public with my body I deprivatized it. Deprivatizing my body grants me the capital I crave. The faintest flip of my skirt guarantees such a score. One could gamble on such certainty, and I do. Men are easy, and I am ruthless. I'll confess, I am often this way."
