Cover Photo: Andy Warhol's James Bond by Chris Okum
 

Andy Warhol's James Bond

I woke up at around nine. I took a shower. In the shower. I shaved when I got out. I was in the shower for a little under twenty minutes. It took me a half hour to shave my face. Because I have to moisten the hairs. Otherwise I get a rash. There's a cream for that. There's a cream for everything now. I take a wash cloth and I soak it in hot water and then I wrap it around my face so that its covering my neck, cheeks and mouth. I do this for about five minutes. Sometimes I'll count to three hundred. I like the way the numbers get bigger the higher you count. I remove the wash cloth and apply the shaving cream and shave my face. I use a non-mentholated shaving cream. It doesn't smell like anything. I like the unscented kind of shaving cream because I have sensitive skin. I've heard of a moisturizer that is perfect for a man such as myself. An active man. A man who likes dangerous situations. That's me. I'm that guy in the shaving cream commercial. And now I'm James Bond. Just like that. I'm a man who only has one face. I don't know why I shaved this morning. I had no plans today. No meetings. Nowhere to be. Today was my day off. I did whatever I wanted. I took my time. I didn't have to drive fast or jump between any buildings. So I shaved and put on my robe and went into the kitchen and drank some Tang. I drank it out of a frosted mug. I love Tang. I love the taste. I love the gritty little bits at the bottom. I love the color. I would like to wear a suit the color of Tang but I don't think it would look good on me. I think it would look good on Felix. It's been a long time since I saw Felix. I wonder if he's okay. I heard they put him in a prison in North Korea. They said he was trying to kidnap a little girl. You know, he probably was. I could see Felix doing something like that while wearing a Tang suit. I don't know why I'm drinking so much Tang. I drink it all the time. It tastes the same in Kathmandu as it does in London. I go to Caracas and I drink Tang and there's no difference. I drank four glasses of Tang this morning. That's all I did. I drank Tang. And I am a slow Tang drinker. I like to savor the flavor. It takes me ten minutes to drink a glass of Tang. I take a sip and I put the cup down. I do something else, like read the funny pages. That's what I like best about Tang. I don't have to pay attention to it while I'm drinking it. I can just drink it and do something else. In the funny pages today there was a delightful Sluggo and Nancy. I must have read it twenty times. At first I didn't get it, then I started to get it, then I got it, and then I started to not get it again. I didn't go out tonight, either. I like to go out every night. I like to look at the birds. But I can look at the birds from here. I have a great pair of binoculars. I sat by the window and looked at the birds. But there were no birds. Oh there were a couple that were almost right up my alley. But the longer I looked at them the more and more I decided they just weren't my type. I mean, they were okay. They weren't Pussy Galore, but I'm starting to think no one is. I don't think I want to look at birds for a while. I think it's boring, and not the good kind of boring. I have to be distracted in order to pay attention. I like not noticing something and then all of a sudden I notice it and I then I can't stop noticing it. Like the gentleman sitting in the Bentley across the street from my apartment. I noticed him just sitting there. He wasn't doing anything, just sitting there with his hands on the wheel at ten and two and staring straight ahead. He didn't move for six hours. I watched him. I watched him for six straight hours. M called and I talked to M about the man in the car. The man is just sitting there, I said, not moving, only blinking. The man sits like this for six hours and then all of a sudden he drives way. Boom. The car had been running the entire time. That was my excitement for the night. Then I fell asleep. Then I woke up. I couldn't go back to sleep. I stared at the ceiling for two hours. I thought about how high the ceiling looked. But then the more I looked at the ceiling the lower it got. It felt like the ceiling was coming down and the walls were closing in. I felt uncomfortable. I had to call someone.