Shopgirl

l.a.

”I’LL HAVE A HOT DOG,” says Mirabelle. It must be noted that this is not an ordinary hot dog but a Beverly Hills hot dog with none of the unspeakable ingredients of a carnival hot dog. So Mirabelle is not violating the purity of the tender blood flowing under her dewy skin. Lisa, on the other hand, orders a salad that fulfills her personal view of the two main qualities of diet food: it looks ugly and tastes bad. She has not allowed that some foods, perfectly low in fat, can actually taste good. She saves ordering normal food, food that might not be so dietary, for those times when a man is watching, hoping to come off as a vixen who never gains an ounce. This is the importance of dating for Lisa; without it, she would wither away, barely able to lift a spoonload of sliced carrots.

Lisa and Mirabelle sit outside as usual, under the California sun on a perfect eighty-degree July day.

“How’s your love life?” Lisa knows that her real inquiry is twenty questions away on her list, and she’d better start circling the topic early.

“It’s fine.”

“He doesn’t live here, right?”

“He lives in Seattle.”

“That must be hard.”

“It’s okay, we get to see each other once, sometimes twice a week, sometimes more or less.” Then Mirabelle, oblivious to undercurrents and thinking that Lisa might have an interest outside Rodeo Drive, says, “Have you ever read Idols of Perversity?”

This question passes through Lisa like a cosmic ray: no effect. Mirabelle then does a neat and tricky little analysis of her favorite book while Lisa handles her disinterest by staring in Mirabelle’s face and dreaming of makeup. As Mirabelle winds down, and as her break recedes into the land of lost lunch hours, Lisa pushes hard.

“When do you get to see him next…?”

Mirabelle never, ever would betray any personal information about Ray Porter, even his name, though in this case the fully briefed Lisa already knows it. But in her excitement she does tell Lisa that she will see him next week: “We’re going to the Ruscha opening at Reynaldo Gallery.” Mirabelle assumes Lisa will be there already, as no one who attends anything ever at the Reynaldo Gallery would miss the next event. In a clear instant, Lisa sees herself wrangle Ray away from Mirabelle and, with a simple toss of her lasso, utterly make him hers.