After youve been together for the first time,
without the advantage or disadvantage of any prior
acquaintance,
the other party very often says to you,
Tell me about yourself, I want to know all about you,
whats your story? And you think maybe they really and
truly do

sincerely want to know your life story, and so you ligght up
a cigarette and begin to tell it to them, the two of you
lyeing together in completely relaxed positions
like a pair of rag dolls a bored child dropped on a bed.

You tell them your story, or as much of your story
as time or a fair dgree of prudence allows, and they say
Oh, oh, oh, oh,
each time a little more faintly until the oh
is just an audible breath and then of course

theres some interruption. Slow room service comes up
with a bowl of melting ice cubes, or one of you rises to pee
and gaze at himself with mild astonishment in the bathroom
mirror.
And then, the first thing you know before youve had time
to pick up where you left off with your enthralling life story,
theyre telling you their life story, exactly as theyd intended
to all along,

and youre saying, Oh, oh, oh,oh,
each time a little more faintly, the vowel at last becoming
no more than an audible sigh,
as the elevator, halfway down the corridor and a turn to
the left,
draws one last long, deep breath of exhaustion
and stops breathig forever. Then?

Well, one of you falls asleep
and the other one does likewise with a lighted cigarette
in his mouth,
and thats how people burn to death in hotel rooms.

-Tennessee Williams, from "In the Winter of Cities"