About then the coffee boiled over. Halfway through the cup of coffee, she gasped and said she had to run
because she had a date a half-hour earlier with someone she met at an art exhibit.
"You wanted some money," I said. She reached into my half open wallet and pulled out a five-dollar bill.
"Till next week," she said, "when the check comes. Thanks a mill."
She crumpled the money, blew Algernon a kiss, and before I could say anything she was out the window onto the fire escape, and out of sight.
I stood there foolishly looking after her. So damned attractive. So full of life and excitement.
Her voice, her eyes—everything about her was an invitation.
And she lived out the window and just a fire escape away.
June 20 — Perhaps I should have waited before going to see Matt; or not gone to see him at all.
I don't know. Nothing turns out the way I expect it to.
With the clue that Matt had opened a barbershop somewhere in the Bronx, it was a simple matter to find him.
I remembered he had sold for a barber supply company in New York.
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