from one man she didn’t really love to the next, from one roommate to the next, from one freelance gig to the next? Taking refuge in Prozac to get through it all? 
 “Would you like to watch Last Tango In Paris with me? I never finished it because the police interrupted. It’s Charlie’s favorite movie…maybe you can help me understand why.”
Kitty wanted to go. But she hated to leave her friend alone.
“Thanks, I think I will,” she said.
Desert Rose got out of bed, invigorated, searched for her remote control, put on the movie, and climbed back under the warm covers.
Neither one said anything for a few minutes. As Kitty watched, Desert Rose’s eyes were fixed on her with a wondering, hungry expression. The movie left her cold. What on earth could she say? Kitty was sorry she had agreed to watch the movie.
“Did you know that this movie was the most controversial movie of its era?” she asked.
“No. Why?” said Desert Rose.
On screen, Marlon Brando was having rough sex with Maria Schneider against the wall.
“Because of this scene,” said Kitty, “at the time it was rated X.”
Desert Rose shrugged. After slogging through the first hour of this film, which dragged on at a snail’s pace, Kitty found that she just didn't give a damn any more what happened. When the credits rolled at the end, she felt saved. 
 “Well, what do you think?” Desert Rose asked.
“I think this movie should be left in the dustbin of history. Even if you love Charlie, you shouldn't have to subject yourself to this torturously slow film.”
“I didn’t like it either. I just wonder why he liked it so much.”
“He probably lost his virginity during this film.”
Desert Rose laughed. Kitty tried to smile, but the stench in the apartment made her sick.
“Desert Rose, I think I should be going.”
“Now? But I wanted to show you a new film I bought on Canal Street…well…never mind.”
Kitty knew she should have been more patient with Desert Rose since she was sick, but she couldn’t. The stench, the cold, the solitude, were all too depressing.
“Are you sure you don’t want to watch the film, then sleep here? I know it’s cold but the blanket is warm. I put twelve pounds of goose down in it. ”
Kitty felt that if she spent the night there, she would become Desert Rose, she would be sucked in, as if into a black hole, contaminated by her profound solitude, deeper even than her own. In her patient wait for Charlie, Desert Rose expected Kitty to fill the void, and become more than a friend: the other half of the couple, the one person to share her life with, spend weekend evenings with, see movies with, go out to eat, chat, sleep over, do the little things. 
“Some other time,” said Kitty, riddled with guilt. “I’m supposed to go to a dance party for the opening of a hotel in NoHo. I invited my roommate to come, too. She’s waiting for me. I’ll call you.” She felt she would faint if she stayed one minute longer in the chilly, dimly lit loft.
“Thanks for dropping by,” said Desert Rose. “I’m feeling much better.”
“Anytime you need me, give me a call.”
They embraced, and, it was over.
As soon as Kitty hit the street, she decided to walk over the Brooklyn Bridge to Manhattan. She almost ran there. She needed to take in fresh crisp winter air, get some perspective, figure something out.