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- "Listen. I toleja about that. I don't like that type language," she said. "If you're
gonna use that type language, I can go sit down with my girl friends, you know."
I apologized like a madman, because the band was starting a fast one. She started
jitterbugging with me-- but just very nice and easy, not corny. She was really good. All
you had to do was touch her. And when she turned around, her pretty little butt twitched
so nice and all. She knocked me out. I mean it. I was half in love with her by the time we
sat down. That's the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty, even if
they're not much to look at, or even if they're sort of stupid, you fall half in love with
them, and then you never know where the hell you are. Girls. Jesus Christ. They can
drive you crazy. They really can.
They didn't invite me to sit down at their table-- mostly because they were too
ignorant--but I sat down anyway. The blonde I'd been dancing with's name was Bernice
something--Crabs or Krebs. The two ugly ones' names were Marty and Laverne. I told
them my name was Jim Steele, just for the hell of it. Then I tried to get them in a little
intelligent conversation, but it was practically impossible. You had to twist their arms.
You could hardly tell which was the stupidest of the three of them. And the whole three
of them kept looking all around the goddam room, like as if they expected a flock of
goddam movie stars to come in any minute. They probably thought movie stars always
hung out in the Lavender Room when they came to New York, instead of the Stork Club
or El Morocco and all. Anyway, it took me about a half hour to find out where they all
worked and all in Seattle. They all worked in the same insurance office. I asked them if
they liked it, but do you think you could get an intelligent answer out of those three
dopes? I thought the two ugly ones, Marty and Laverne, were sisters, but they got very
insulted when I asked them. You could tell neither one of them wanted to look like the
other one, and you couldn't blame them, but it was very amusing anyway.
I danced with them all--the whole three of them--one at a time. The one ugly one,
Laverne, wasn't too bad a dancer, but the other one, old Marty, was murder. Old Marty
was like dragging the Statue of Liberty around the floor. The only way I could even half
enjoy myself dragging her around was if I amused myself a little. So I told her I just saw
Gary Cooper, the movie star, on the other side of the floor.
"Where?" she asked me--excited as hell. "Where?"
"Aw, you just missed him. He just went out. Why didn't you look when I told
you?"
She practically stopped dancing, and started looking over everybody's heads to
see if she could see him. "Oh, shoot!" she said. I'd just about broken her heart-- I really
had. I was sorry as hell I'd kidded her. Some people you shouldn't kid, even if they
deserve it.
Here's what was very funny, though. When we got back to the table, old Marty
told the other two that Gary Cooper had just gone out. Boy, old Laverne and Bernice
nearly committed suicide when they heard that. They got all excited and asked Marty if
she'd seen him and all. Old Mart said she'd only caught a glimpse of him. That killed me.
The bar was closing up for the night, so I bought them all two drinks apiece quick
before it closed, and I ordered two more Cokes for myself. The goddam table was lousy
with glasses. The one ugly one, Laverne, kept kidding me because I was only drinking
Cokes. She had a sterling sense of humor. She and old Marty were drinking Tom
Collinses--in the middle of December, for God's sake. They didn't know any better. The
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