It was 1997. New York City.
Dimitry and Bobby. There were cafe-style tables. All set out with accompanying music. Accordions. A good female Black Jazz singer. A live Jazz band. Someone played on the Steinway on the first floor.
The cafe tables were arranged upstairs. Cute wooden chairs were shoved underneath the tables. It looked delightful. A bit…suggestive?
The second-floor had several large, old blown-glass windows. Beautiful detailing.
Of course, this was in the winter…but…I’m sure this 7,000 sq. foot mansion…is air conditioned. Of course.
It’s a beautiful house. Of course, neither Bobby nor Dimitry own the house.
But…that’s okay. I guess? …Because Bobby is Bobby Kennedy, son of Ethel and Bobby Kennedy and Dimitry is a handsome young man who seems…socially adroit and snobby? Well-dressed. Well-groomed. Ready to mingle with both women and men, and have fun. Real fun.
This was decades ago. Before Stanley Kubrick “published” Eyes Wide Shut.
Dimitry stayed at a posh hotel with friends, all in the same posh room…ate room service and then showered and groomed for the party of his life. For him, this was…unbelievable.
He’d worked his way up. Socially. Over years. Lots of effort. Lots of fun, actually, too. But anyway, this was a very big deal.
For Bobby, it was another dull Saturday night. Do you know how many parties that man has been to!? *Eye-roll* This wasn’t a big deal AT ALL.
But…Bobby had recently fallen off the wagon and started drinking. And…he was really into…absinthe. YES. Absinthe. …He’d read The Sun Also Rises and gotten on a 1920’s kick. And he wanted to…party like it was 1926. And feel…rich…like his grandpa was in the 20’s. He went around drunk, for weeks. Hiding it, but occasionally bursting into laughter or shouting, late at night with friends.
His wife, at the time, Mary…was horrified. But…she tried to be his best buddy. As per usual.
They walked into the same room. But not simultaneously.
Bobby…had been there…for HOURS.
Drinking. Talking. Smoking cigarettes. Flirting. Making Mary feel…like worthless shit. As per usual. But as per usual…she acted indifferent, obtuse and…almost braindead. Because at the end of the night…she always took him back. She always took him…home. And acted…like…it was….cool. Like she had some secret with him. Of course, she didn’t. And by 2015…she had hung herself. Because…amazingly…she finally realized he really was…hurting her. Like for real.
Anyway…Bobby doesn’t know that. …YES! Bobby doesn’t even know that. …About Mary.
He’s never taken much notice of other people. For most of his life. He’s DUMB AS A DOORNAIL. …By choice. He doesn’t notice. …He just doesn’t notice.
To him…Mary was…cool. Hot. Sexy. Fun. And…close. Because he had no idea he was hurting her. And when he did realize it, it made him laugh at her and applaud himself, because he’s most certainly a diagnosed narcissist.
Were they actually in love? Maybe. And that’s why Mary kept hanging-on. In part. But…he’s a horrible person. And he enjoyed making her cry. It made him feel like he was worth a damn.
