Lunch with Penelope

Penelope Cruz

Wins the raffle

To have lunch with me

I bring my tuba

To the restaurant

Penelope arrives late

Wearing

Everything

I’ve been hiding behind this cross

Since the 16th century

I’m a converso

She confesses

You alone know this

She says

And starts reading the menu

But she has forgotten something:

The nautilus shell in which she was born

Before we can order

Pedro Almodovar arrives

Smelling of night-blooming jasmine

Speaking ladino

He says:

This is not a kosher restaurant

Penelope blows a few sad notes on my tuba

And reluctantly departs

What’s up with Penelope?

She did not tear up her birth certificate

She did not tell me my name

She did not beg me for an autograph

I eat my lunch alone

Fatter and hungrier by the hour

                                                            -- New York, October 8, 2010