Wednesday morning. He realizes she's not going to call him back with that great story about the producer. So he'll catch her as she drives to work.
"I'm finally feeling better," he says. "Three days in bed and now I'm OK. How's the dog search?"
"I"m frantic," she says. "I got off work early yesterday and went to look for my friend's dog. Cain* is my best dog friend in the world. I called every animal shelter, every vet. I plastered Runyan Canyon with flyers. I did the same with Cain's other favorite dog park. This woman at Runyan put it on Twitter. Today my friends at work are going to help me put it on Facebook and Craiglist."
"Wow," he says.
"Ultimately," she says, "I don't know what to do. He could be in Santa Clarita. He could be in Mexico. You make this huge local effort. Apparently the internet is the way to go for these things. That's where I'm looking this morning. My heart is heavy and it is hard to breathe. I'm wondering if he's safe."
"Wow," he says.
"I can't even go there," she says. "I'm just going into action right now. It's something I can't even begin to think about.
"I was out all night, showing his picture to the homeless people in the neighborhood. To all the trannies."
"Wow," he says.
"Wouldn't it be cool if we could switch places for a day?" she says, "feeling what it's like to be each other."
"Wow," he says.
"You'd be so weirded out and so would I. I wasn't even thinking sexually.
"I couldn't sleep last night so I sang prayers for an hour."
"I'd like to hear that," he says.
"It would so turn you on."
"Sometimes I do really good blogging when I'm sick," he says. "Not this time."
"I can't believe how you tricked these rabbis to convert you," she says.
"Does it make you think less of me?"
"Oh, completely. Your karma, oy, I hope the all-loving Buddha helps you out because there's nobody else who can.
"Do you think your Judaism is just like the porno community for you? Just an insular community you want to be a part of for a while."
"No," he says. "I didn't want to be a part of the porn community. I just wrote about it. They are both insular communities."
"Which community will be next for you?" she asks.
"I will be part of the Orthodox community for the rest of my life. I've been in it for 15 years, since I moved to LA in 1994."
"I just assumed," she says, "that you would abandon Judaism when you found the next thing."
"While I was sick," he says, "I listened to this novel 'On Chesil Beach' by Ian McEwan. It's about two people who love each other. They get married in England in July 1962. They're unable to consummate their marriage on their wedding night. They walk out on to the beach and say really cruel things to each other. Then they get an annulment and lead unfulfilling lives."
"Ohmigod, I totally want to read this," she says. "I love Ian McEwan."
"It hit home for me," he says. "They both felt the intensity of love. They both enjoyed being with the other person. What they both lacked was patience. So when they sexually misfired, he reproved her for running out of the room, she sniped back. Then he called her a bitch. She walked off, hoping he would envelope her in his love. But he just stood aside and let her walk off.
"It really hit me because I don't have a lot of patience either."
"I know," she says. "You've broken up with me three times already."
"I don't believe in bashert," he says. "I don't believe in the meant to be stuff. I don't believe we're fated or destined. Relationships are what we make of them. They're not decided by the gods. I'm pragmatic, not mystical. Luck plays a huge role in love and life."
"I don't believe in any of it," she says. "I don't believe in love, in relationships. I sorta believe in the here and now and staying present and if it feels right, that's where you stay. I don't believe in knowing things for a lifetime. My parents divorced when I was young."
"How long have you had this philosophy?"
"Forever. The marriage oath is just ridiculous. I've always known I would never marry and never have children. I never want to belong to someone. I've given up. It's not going to happen for me. I'm unconventional. I have these views about marriage and relationships that most people don't have. But why can't I do it my own way?
"You like things that are contained. You have certain expectations."
"Yeah," he says.
"And if it does not fall into that category, you can be dismissive. But I don't see it as a lack of patience."
"I know when something feels really bad. Like when you walk down a step and the step isn't there to meet your foot and you start falling through space and you don't like that uncertainty?"
"That's a good metaphor," she says. "I just want to be in bed with you right now."
"Well, let's do it. When do you want to come over?"
"This is not a good week. Can we just play it by ear? I'm going to try to leave work early and just scan Runyan Canyon and plaster neighborhoods and then see where I am. OK?"
"OK."
