Ladies' Man: A Novel by Richard Price

Author:Richard Price [Price, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Literary, Fiction
ISBN: 9781429954440
Google: QNCeFrYF8EsC
Amazon: B0051OAQ5Y
Publisher: Picador
Published: 1978-01-01T22:00:00+00:00

* * *

THURSDAY

The locksmith was a young dude about my age but he had shoulder-length hair and tiny round glasses that reminded me of one of the artists I sold the stuff to on Spring Street. He had my door open in three minutes, changed the cylinder in another five and gave me new keys. Set me back thirty-five bills. I invited him in for a cup of coffee but he declined. After he left, I got the first solid night's sleep in a week.

Thursday morning came on like the weatherman remembered it was February. The wind was a sidearm bitch and as I made coffee my windows were moaning like kazoos. When I got downstairs the bus stop and parking regulation poles were jerking back and forth like they were in a tug of war. Loose trash and newspapers skipped down the street faster than taxis.

I took a bus down to the diner and did some oatmeal with the boys. Al lent me an extra case for the day. I laid on them the story of my two-hundred-dollar sale in the loft and I got back the expected barrage of Daily News-mentality comments on long hair and artists. At first I got into my attitude about being the wise owl among the birdbrains and feeling sorry for myself, but then, I figured, I knew how they were going to respond before I brought the whole thing, up, and then when they did I wound up down on them and sorry for myself. So, question—why did I bring it up to begin with? What was I trying to prove? These guys were clods, artists were from Saturn, and in the middle was me, a man without a country. Poof me.

The free sample of the day was a small, round, rubber-spiked scalp massager that fit into the palm of your hand.

Due to the wind-chill factor I decided it would be a good day to find an enormous building that would take from nine to five to go through and picked a twenty-story affair on Charles Street. I had worked it before; it was decent enough. The only problem was that it was a doorman building. Technically doormen weren't allowed to let solicitors inside but some you could slip two, three dollars to and they would go for "coffee in their minds. Once I swung a bribe with a doorman I never" forgot his name. When I came back six months later I could greet, him like a long-lost friend, kibitz, laugh, slip him his money and get down to work. Heavy warmth always blew people away and if you came on friendly to most people, they would walk your dog through a minefield for you.

The doorman at Charles Street was an Irish dude named Phillip. The last time I was there he showed me the Silver Star he'd won at Okinawa, told me about his family, half here, half in Ireland, and after we bullshat for a while hipped me to which tenants were more likely prospects than others.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.