Putting on her clothes, she asked me if I had a girlfriend.

I hesitated, then said, "No."

"Well, then I girlfriend," she said.

How easy.

"My name 'Yumi,'" she said, "like 'You' and 'Me'."

I gave here 200 dollars and, though I was a bit strapped for cash, felt good when she left.

Two days later Carol came by.

"How come you haven't called?" she asked.

"I've been busy," I said, "some poems, some music, some ..."

"Is that more important than our relationship?" she asked.

"Sometimes," I said, being honest.

She looked cross, unhappy.

"Don't you have things you need to do sometimes"? I asked.

"Maybe you need a new girlfriend," she said. It was a kind of threat.

I then got the idea of paying anyone who thought they were doing me a favor. Getting out my wallet and handing her 200 dollars, I asked:

"Wanna hop in the sack now or after dinner?"

"You bastard," she said.

She left, slamming the door, the 200 dollars still clutched in her hand.

"Yumi," I said to myself, smiling. I could get used to that name. It was easy sounding.
by Louis Martin