August 14, 1979 - Tuesday (day)

It's 5:30, and I'm writing this over supper, which is really the best time to write because I'm not tired and the events of the day are still fresh in my mind.
I was working with George Pouliot this morning when Scott called Elliot for a phone call. After he was gone, I said it was probably Denise. When George asked why, I told him she calls him every day just to talk to him. He made some remark like, "Who'd want to talk to her?" I said, "Hey, you're talking about the woman I love." He looked like he was shot, and said, "You love her?" I said I did.
That set George off with a story that I think he's been waiting a few years to dump on the right person. It seems that someone in the company (that I've never heard of) told George that Denise fools around so much it isn't funny. Supposedly, she sleeps with married men, single men, men off the street, anyone. I couldn't believe it. George was making the girl of my dreams out to be a slut. He told some other wicked stuff about her, too, and said that on Ingell Street she has a reputation second to none. He said she spreads crabs around the bathroom, and various other filthy things. Now that I think about it, I realize that none of it can be true. Whether George or someone else made it up, I don't know, but I think I'll leave it at that. He said I don't know Denise as well as he does, but I think I know her well enough now to realize that she's just not that kind of person. She's nice and sweet, and I just can't believe that she'd do those kind of things. Dina said if I really loved her, I wouldn't let those things that George told me bother me. I really do love her, so I think I'll leave it at that. Like Elliot said when I told him about it, talk is cheap, so that's it on that.
I think that Steve and Karen really do intend on getting married, and that whole love affair matured since I started this book. Gee! I just wish I started it about a month earlier so I could have gotten in all my thoughts about Denise, softball, and life in general this summer. I was thinking this afternoon-I do a lot of that at work-that I've really changed since the summer began. I think I've even changed a lot in the past two weeks. Al Ribeiro would probably not believe it now if he talked to me. I haven't even seen him in two and a half weeks and he's always busy with that group of his (they better be good the next time I hear them) so I never get around to visiting or even phoning him. Maybe if there's nothing else to do tonight, and I don't think there will be, I'll give him a call, see if he's busy and maybe go down the house to pay him a visit. Jay and Dina are going to Steve and Elliot's tonight, so I don't think I'll go down there, even though it might be fun to see what happens. The last thing in the world I'd want to see though, is Dina get hurt. I love her very much as a friend. She even took Elliot and I to lunch today in her new car. She drives very well for someone that just got her license.
I went to Ingell Street this afternoon to pick up some inserts, but I didn't get a chance to talk to Deb Cambra because she was on the phone. She's another really nice person. She was down the Atlantic last night, and I don't think she said two words all night.
I think I'll write again later on before bed. Maybe something'll happen tonight, but I doubt it. When you least expect it...

I never did confirm those stories about Denise, but I'm sure there was a kernel of truth to them. I don't understand what the attraction was-perhaps somewhere in my subconscious, I knew that she was indeed a slut, and therefore I would get to fuck her. Well, I never did fuck her, so when you can't even sleep with a girl who has the reputation of the town tramp, that just goes to show how pathetic I was at the time.