Cha-Ching!

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Authors: Ali Liebegott
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role of a dashing butch in the one Hollywood film per decade that featured lesbians.
    Theo sat down on the couch. She felt happy, looking out the windows that led to Sammy’s balcony, with a view of Brooklyn. Sammy petted the dog slowly and then sat up and started rolling a joint.
    â€œDo you smoke?” she asked Theo.
    â€œOnly cigarettes,” Theo said, afraid to tell Sammy she was sober.
    â€œThat’s cool,” Sammy said, lighting the joint.
    Theo watched Sammy as she lay back on the couch with her joint. She envied Sammy’s coal-dark eyes and felt confused about whether she wanted to be her or have sex with her. They sat on the couch for a while petting the dog, and when Sammy was properly stoned they headed out for pizza. Theo drove, Cary Grant sat squished in the middle and Sammy pointed out a variety of personal Brooklyn landmarks, including where she’d gone to high school, a deli she worked at where someone was killed in a robbery, and her first boyfriend’s house.
    Theo loved Brooklyn. She loved the cars driving by with shiny rims and pumping music, she loved the Coney Island silhouettes of roller coasters against the night sky, and when they arrived at L&B Pizzeria and Spumoni Gardens she loved the man in the marinara-soaked apron who expertly slid two corner squares of pizza out of the pan with a spatula and tipped them onto their plates.
    Sammy insisted on paying, pulling a wad of “fishing boat money” out of her pocket. They found a free table on the patio where Cary Grant wouldn’t be tormented by foot traffic, and Theo raised a grape soda in a toast.
    â€œTo Brooklyn,” she said.
    â€œAnd fishing boat money,” Sammy said, raising her can of beer.
    The pizza was delicious, thick and cheesy, and Theo inhaled her piece, saving a bit of crust for Cary Grant.
    â€œThe problem with Yonkers—” Theo started.
    â€œIs everything?” Sammy asked.
    They laughed.
    â€œSort of. It has no life force—everyone seems depressed.”
    Theo told Sammy about Doralina, and everyone at her awful data entry job, and sweet Randy from the Kwik Stop. Sammy laughed in horror. For the first time since she moved to New York Theo felt like she was talking to a real person instead of trying to hide her freakishness. Sammy told Theo how she’d been so seasick working on the fishing boat at first, how people made illegal hooch and everyone had affairs with each other. She’d never do it again, she said; the work was too grueling even if at the end she had gotten a giant Ed McMahon Sweepstakes–size check.
    â€œI thought the easy money would be a little easier if you know what I mean.”
    Afterwards, they got ice cream. Theo ordered pistachio and Sammy got two vanilla cones, one for her and one for Cary Grant. Sammy got back in line for the third time and ordered a bag of garlic knots and zeppoles to take home.
    â€œMovie snacks,” she said to Theo, holding up the bag.
    â€œI love zeppoles.”
    When they got back to Sammy’s apartment, Cary Grant, who seemed to trust Sammy instinctively, curled up between them to watch North by Northwest.
    â€œWe’re honored to be sitting next to you,” Sammy said as the opening credits came up. And then each time the real Cary Grant came on screen she smoothed the top of the dog’s head gently and said, “Oh, you look so dapper, Cary.”
    After the movie, Sammy gave Theo a pillow and blanket for the couch and then went off to sleep herself.
    The next day they lazed about eating Cocoa Puffs, and in the late morning they drove to Prospect Park. The street lamps were decorated with Christmas garland. It was sunny but chilly as they walked over the stiff grass, Cary Grant sniffing the trees. Sammy went into a deli at the edge of the park and got two roast beef and provolone sandwiches, potato salad, and more grape soda while Theo waited outside with the dog. They ate in the truck

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