Charles Bukowski by Howard Sounes

Author:Howard Sounes
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781847676320
Publisher: Canongate Books
Published: 2007-10-18T10:00:00+00:00

until he was 23*

and not very often until he was 50

I think I should stay listed

via Pacific Telephone

until I get as much as

the average man has had.

He invariably invited his callers over, whatever their motivation, so long as they could bring a six-pack of beer, and Brad and Tina Darby often saw young women following Bukowski up the path to the door of his apartment. ‘It would just amaze me sometimes,’ says Brad. ‘Some of them were gorgeous and he had a constant parade.’ Bukowski told these girlfriends he was already seeing someone, but she was not the kind of woman he needed. But if Linda King showed up, he quickly bundled them over to Brad and Tina’s place and they had to stay there if Linda didn’t leave.

One night around closing time Bukowski received a telephone call from a young woman with a particularly sexy voice. She said she was with a girlfriend at Barney’s Beanery, the bar on Santa Monica Boulevard. Her girlfriend was a fan of Bukowski’s writing and, as it was her thirtieth birthday, she wondered if they could meet him. ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Pick up a six-pack and come on over.’

Two women duly showed up, both spaced-out. The birthday girl was Georgia Peckham-Krellner. A match-thin brunette dressed like a hooker, she was the woman later immortalized by a famous photograph in which she poses with Bukowski in front of his refrigerator. The other woman, the one who had telephoned, was Pamela Miller. She was twenty-three years old and built like the girls in Fling magazine. She was not tall, but she had a big chest and a very pretty face, not unlike the actress Ann-Margret, with green eyes that glittered merrily (partly because she was stoned) and long glossy reddish-blonde hair. She was a girl to drive a man crazy. ‘I guess you could say I was attractive,’ she says, coolly, recalling her impression on Bukowski. ‘I’ve never had too many problems attracting the opposite sex.’ She told Bukowski her friends called her Cupcakes, because of her chest. It was 38 D. He could call her Cupcakes, if he wanted.

Listening to them talking, Bukowski decided that although Cupcakes was the looker, Georgia was the more likable of the pair. Cupcakes seemed to have the personality of a shark.

He told Georgia: ‘I wish I could take your soul and merge it into her body.’ He looked at Cupcakes, all that red hair, flaming sex. ‘I would have the perfect woman.’ Cupcakes giggled thinking she was being paid a compliment.

After they left, Bukowski lay on his filthy mattress, and thought about Cupcakes. He had never known a real redhead before. Her hair was like fire.

Cupcakes was working as a cocktail waitress at The Alpine Inn, a German theme bar in Hollywood, and she began coming by Carlton Way after her shift. The conversation was mostly about her – she had no interest in his poetry, which made a change. He discovered she had been born in San

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