Recorded Books Inc. - I Love You More Than You Know: Essays

I LOVE YOU MORE
THAN YOU KNOW

Also by Jonathan Ames

I Pass Like Night

The Extra Man

Whats Not to Love?

My Less Than Secret Life

Wake Up, Sir!

As Editor:

Sexual Metamorphosis: An Anthology of Transsexual Memoirs

Jonathan Ames

Copyright 2006 by Jonathan Ames

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review. Any members of educational institutions wishing to photocopy part or all of the work for classroom use, or publishers who would like to obtain permission to include the work in an anthology, should send their inquiries to Grove/Atlantic, Inc., 841 Broadway, New York, NY 10003.

Some of the essays in this book have previously appeared, usually in a somewhat different form, in the following magazines and journals: The Thick Man, Oh, Pardon My Hard-On, Rue St. Denis, Troubles With Cockroaches and Young Girls, My Wiener Is Damaged!, I Called Myself El Cid, Everybody Dies in Memphis, No Contact, Asshole! and Whores, Writers, and a Pimple: My Trip to Europe in New York Press; Ron Gospodarski in Gear; My New Society Testimony: Able to Love Again in Bomb; Self-Sentenced and S/he Said, He Said in Bookforum; I Love You More Than You Know, Loose Tiles, and Snowfall in www.mrbellersneighborhood.com ; Escape Home, in The New York Times;Club Existential Dread and Tis the Season for Halitosis in www.mcsweeneys.net ; The Most Phallic Building in the World and Midlife Assessment: Cataloging My Ruination in www.slate.com ; The Most Phallic Building in the World Contest in www.cabinetmagazine.org ; Kurt Cobain in www.blacktable.com ; Sneakers Make the Boy in Blackbook; Jersey Shore in Paper; and The Onion Asks Me: What Is Funny? in The Onion.

The definitions in this book first appeared in The Future Dictionary of America, published by McSweeneys, and A Tribute to George Plimpton first appeared as the introduction to a reissue of Plimptons novel The Curious Case of Sidd Finch, published by Four Walls Eight Windows.

The author and publisher gratefully acknowledge the following for the right to reprint material in the book: P. 62: Able to Love Again Dr. F. A. Mesmer. P. 185: Williamsburgh Bank Building Scott Murphy. P. 186: Ypsilanti Water Tower Mark Heisler. Pp. 216217: Out of My League by George Plimpton. Reprinted by permission of Russell & Volkening as agents for the author. Copyright 1961 by George Plimpton, renewed in 1989 by George Plimpton. Pp. 219, 227: On the Road by Jack Kerouac, 1955, 1957 by Jack Kerouac, renewed 1983 by Stella Kerouac, renewed 1985 by Stella Kerouac and Jan Kerouac. Used by permission of Viking Penguin, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

Printed in the United States of America
Published simultaneously in Canada

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Ames, Jonathan.

I love you more than you know / Jonathan Ames.

p. cm.

eBook ISBN-13: 978-1-5558-4592-6

I. Title.

PS3551.M42115 2006
813.54dc22

2005052748

Black Cat
a paperback original imprint of Grove/Atlantic, Inc.
841 Broadway
New York, NY 10003

For My Great-Aunt Doris

I LOVE YOU MORE
THAN YOU KNOW

I woke up from a disturbed nights sleep with my sinuses clogged and aggrieved. I had just been dreaming that I had a brain tumor. I hacked and sneezed my way out of bed and cursed my neighbor who smokes cigarettes first thing in the morning. The stink of his tobacco creeps its way into my bedroom each day, awakening me at 8 A.M. and causing an allergic reaction.

So I opened the door of my apartment this particular morning and shouted across the hall, STOP SMOKING! and then I slammed my door and muttered, You bastard. I often do this, but I dont know if he ever hears me. I dont think so since he was friendly to me the other day in the elevator and I feigned civility.

Anyway, after this auspicious beginning an incredible day unfolded. My sinuses drained, and then later that morning a messenger arrived with copies of my new novel, The ExtraMan. I usually dont tip messengers, but since this was a special occasion I opened my wallet. I had a twenty, a five, and two singles. I hesitated as to the proper tip amount and then took the two dollars and handed them to the good man. He looked down at the bills and I immediately regretted not giving him the fivewhat could he do with two dollars? But he thanked me with his French-Haitian accent and an appreciative smile appeared on his face. I forgave myself my cheapness. He can buy a slice of pizza, I thought.

I closed the door and examined my novel. I noticed right away that from the rough handling of the messengerwhom I had just generously endowed with two American dollarsthat all three copies had tiny dents in their bindings. They are ruined, I thought. How can I be proud of them?

My insane response to holding my novel for the first time, a novel I had worked on for too many years, fulfilled the prediction of a friend of mine, Spencer, a therapist-in-training. When you get your book, he had said, youll immediately seek out an imperfection and then want to kill yourself. The young Freudian was right. So to prove him wrong, I pretended to ignore the minuscule dents and was able to see that the book was actually quite beautiful, that nine years of waiting for a second novel had come to a fantastic end.

But I couldnt revel in my accomplishment for too long as I had to hustle off and play a role in a short, avant-garde film. A beautiful woman, whom Ive had my eye on for six years, had asked me a few days earlier to be in this movie with her. She had initially called to tell me she had seen my oneman show at the Fez and that she admired my performance. I thanked her for her kind words, and then she made her proposition: Jonathan, Id like to work with you. Im shooting this short film Friday with this great director and I think you would be perfect as my lover.

Your lover? Im flattered.

We have to kiss, she said in a whisper.

Its the role Ive been waiting for! I said, grandly.

A Hollywood kiss, she then said, disappointing me. No tongue.

Of course not, I said, maintaining my dignity.

Still, tongue or no tongue, the opportunity to embrace this woman felt like a gift from heaven; she wanted me to be her lover in a moviewas it to be a warm-up for real life? I could only hope. So after receiving my novel, I rushed off to the movie location. The director had called me the day before and told me to dress like a 1940s businessmanso my costume was my Brooks Brothers sport coat and tie, my Barracuda raincoat, and a fedora I had bought years ago in Saratoga Springs, New York. We were shooting on the plaza in front of the Tisch School at NYU. I arrived on set and my costar greeted me with a compliment. You look so handsome, she said.

I think this fedora makes me look like a Hasid, I said.

Not at all, she said.

Well, you are a picture of beauty, I said, and she was. Shes a redhead with high cheekbones, green eyes, and a slender yet womanly figure. She was wearing an old-fashioned-looking black cocktail dress. We were straight out of