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By Root 14005 0

saying he did not like them either but bartenders have got to live too, and then finally settling down to the serious drinking to get primed, Stark getting really drunk with a wild urgent thirst that Prew had not suspected in that cool, slow talking, levelheadedness, but Stark confiding to him now with the unreserved intimacy of drunkenness that he was not worth a damn in any whorehouse unless he was properly liquored up and he did not know why, but anyway this was the only way to do it, the only way he could do it, but that he sincerely loved it this way, really he did (with the prospect coloring everything with unattainable brilliance, heightening everything with that unattainable ardor that in the end was one pure love of everything that lived, but could be attained no other way), and that by god no matter what anybody said any thing that could make you love the earth as much as this could not be wrong, no matter what they said, or evil, goddam them, or ashamed, screw them, and he would not believe it wrong, the sons of bitches.

Until now, standing at the top of the stairs on the landing with the massive steel door with its square peephole in front of them making a deadend tunnel of the stairway, the great earth love that needed an outlet, the great hunger for love that must be fed, were so great it almost creamed them both.

Stark (very drunk but still able to roll a cigaret deftly in the darkness) struck a match and lit it—the match flare lighting up like echoes of their minds all the pencil drawn naked bodies (male and female) on the walls, the unattached bodyless organs (male and female), the realistic looking vaginas made by holding a burning kitchen matchhead against the wall and then drawing in the legs afterwards, and all the accompanying verses of several generations of artistic soldiers, sailors, marines, and kanaka shoeshine boys—and beat with his fist against the door.

The peephole slid back immediately and a huge, black Hawaiian woman’s face peered out at them suspiciously.

“Let us in,” Stark said. “We freezin in the cold, cold night,” ending with a tragic, from the heart, hiccup.

“You drunk,” the great hulk heaved, “go way. We dont want trouble with MP. This a respectable place. Close up. You go home.”

“Now dont get tough with me, Minerva,” Stark grinned. “Or I have you busted back to the ranks. Go tell Mrs Kipfer her number one boy is here and why aint she on the door where she belongs.”

“I see,” she said, still suspiciously. “You wait,” and slammed the peephole irritably shut.

Prew felt the completely unearthly lovely breasts and bellies and long thighs begin subtlely to fade and grow dim on him. He looked at Stark.

“There,” Stark said bitterly. “You see? Woman thinks we drunk.”

“Imagine that,” Prew said. “Suspicious old bat.”

“Any time women see a soljer, think he’s drunk. Why? You know why?”

“Because he is.”

“Thats right. Just plain suspicious. Thats why I dont like to come to these places. No faith in humanity. For two cents I’d go over to the goddam Service Rooms, or Pacific Rooms, or Ritz Rooms, or White Hotel. She thinks this is the only whorehouse in this town? Theres even a Japanee Electric Massage four doors down the street.”

“Lets go there. I never been to one of them.”

Stark giggled. “Cant. Close up. Closes at eleven.” Then realization dawning, he turned and stared. “You mean you never been to a Japanee Lectric Massage?” he said disbelievingly.

“Never.”

“Ones with the little white sign and red letters on it and red streak of lightning under them?”

“Not once.”

“Tsk, tsk,” Stark said. “Where have you been?”

“I’m a hick,” Prew said bitterly. “Plumb green.”

“Tsk, tsk. I bet Wahoo’s the ony place in whole dam world where a man can get Japanee Lectric Massage. And you refuse to take advantage of your opportunity. You have missed a great experience, Prewitt, you have neglected your education. They lay you on your side,” he said, “then one of these hot lookin Japanee girls works you over, all over, with this lectric vibrator. But you cant touch her. They come out naked, and work