Women - Charles Bukowski [217]
…I worked and I worked. I tried to think of Tessie in her short red skirt. It didn’t help. I had given it all to Tessie. I pumped on and on.
“Sorry, baby, too much to drink. Ah, feel my heart!”
She put her hand on my chest. “It’s really going,” she said.
“Am I still invited for Thanksgiving?”
“Sure, my poor dear, don’t worry, please.”
I kissed her goodnight, then rolled away and tried to sleep.
91
After Debra left for work the next morning I bathed, then tried to watch t.v. I walked around naked and noticed that I could be seen from the street through the front window. So I had a glass of grapefruit juice and dressed. Finally there was nothing to do but go back to my place. There’d be some mail, maybe a letter from someone. I made sure that all the doors were locked, then I walked out to the Volks, started it, and drove back to Los Angeles.
On the way in I remembered Sara, the third girl I had met during the reading at The Lancer. I had her phone number in my wallet. I drove home, took a crap, then phoned her.
“Hello,” I said, “this is Chinaski, Henry Chinaski….”
“Yes, I remember you.”
“What are you doing? I thought I might drive out to see you.”
“I have to be at my restaurant today. Why don’t you come down here?”
“It’s a health food place, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I’ll make you a good healthy sandwich.”
“Oh?”
“I close at 4. Why don’t you get here a little before that?”
“All right. How do I get there?”
“Get a pen and I’ll give you directions.”
I wrote the directions down. “See you about 3:30,” I said.
About 2:30 I got into the Volks. Somewhere on the freeway the instructions got confusing or I became confused. I have a great dislike both for freeways and for instructions. I turned off and found myself in Lakewood. I pulled into a gas station and phoned Sara. “Drop On Inn,” she answered.
“Shit!” I said.
“What’s the matter? You sound angry.”
“I’m in Lakewood! Your instructions are fucked!”
“Lakewood? Wait.”
“I’m going back. I need a drink.”
“Now hold on. I want to see you! Tell me what street in Lakewood and the nearest cross street.”
I let the phone hang and went to see where I was. I gave Sara the information. She redirected me.
“It’s easy,” she said. “Now promise you’ll come.”
“All right.”
“And if you get lost again, phone me.”
“I’m sorry, you see, I have no sense of direction. I’ve always had nightmares about getting lost. I believe I belong on another planet.”
“It’s all right. Just follow my new instructions.”
I got back in the car, and this time it was easy. Soon I was on the Pacific Coast Highway looking for the turn-off. I found it. It led me into a snob shopping district near the ocean. I drove slowly and spotted it: Drop On Inn, a large hand-painted sign. There were photos and small cards pasted in the window. An honest-to-god health food place, Jesus Christ. I didn’t want to go in. I drove around the block and past the Drop On Inn slowly. I took a right, then another right. I saw a bar, Crab Haven. I parked outside and went in.
It was 3:45 in the afternoon and every seat was taken. Most of the clients were well on the way. I stood and ordered a vodka-7. I took it to the telephone and phoned Sara. “O.K., it’s Henry. I’m here.”
“I saw you drive past twice. Don’t be afraid. Where are you?”
“Crab Haven. I’m having a drink. I’ll be there soon.”
“All right. Don’t have too many.”
I had that one and another. I found a small empty booth and sat there. I really didn’t want to go. I hardly remembered what Sara looked like.
I finished the drink and drove to her place. I got out, opened the screen door and walked in. Sara was behind the counter. She saw me. “Hi, Henry!” she said, “I’ll be with you