Read Online Post Office by Charles Bukowski - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Charles Bukowski
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awake.”
“I meant to put them in the back porch or outside, you fool!”
“Fool?”
“Yes, you fool! Do you mean to say you let those birds out of the cage? Do you mean to say you really let them out of the cage?”
“Well, all I can say is, they are not locked in the bathroom, they are not in the cupboard.”
“They’ll starve out there!”
“They can catch worms, eat berries, all that stuff.”
“They can’t, they can’t. They don’t know how! They’ll die!”
“Let ‘em learn or let ‘em die,” I said, and then I turned slowly over and went back to sleep. Vaguely, I could hear her cooking her dinner, dropping lids and spoons on the floor, cursing. But Picasso was on the bed with me, Picasso was safe from her sharp shoes. I put my hand out and he licked it and then I slept.
That is, I did for a while. Next thing I knew I was being fondled. I looked up and she was staring into my eyes like a madwoman. She was naked, her breasts dangling in my eyes. Her hair tickling my nostrils. I thought of her millions, picked her up, flipped her on her back and stuck it in.
22
She wasn’t really a cop, she was a clerk-cop. And she started coming in and telling me about a guy who wore a purple stickpin and was a “real gentleman.”
“Oh, he’s so
kind!”
I heard all about him each night.
“Well,” I’d ask, “how was old Purple Stickpin tonight?”
“Oh,” she said, “you know what happened?”
“No, babe, that’s why I’m asking.”
“Oh, he’s SUCH a gentleman!”
“All right. All right. What happened?”
“You know, he has
suffered
so much!”
“Of course.”
“His wife died, you know.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Don’t be so flip. I’m telling you, his wife died and it cost him 15 thousand dollars in medical and burial bills.”
“All right. So?”
“I was walking down the hall. He was coming the other way. We met. He looked at me and with this Turkish accent he said, ‘Ah, you are so beautiful!’ And you know what he did?”
“No, babe, tell me. Tell me quick.”
“He kissed me on the forehead, lightly, ever so lightly. And then he walked on.”
“I can tell you something about him, babe. He’s seen too many movies.”
“How did you know?”
“Whatcha mean?”
“He owns a drive-in theatre. He operates it after work each night.”
“That figures,” I said. “But he’s
such
a gentleman!” she said. “Look, babe, I don’t want to hurt you, but—”
“But what?”
“Look, you’re small-town. I’ve had over 50 jobs, maybe a hundred. I’ve never stayed anywhere long. What I am trying to say is, there is a certain game played in offices all over America. The people are bored, they don’t know what to do, so they play the office-romance game. Most of the time it means nothing but the passing of time. Sometimes they do manage to work off a screw or two on the side. But even then, it is just an offhand pastime, like bowling or t.v. or a New Year’s Eve party. You’ve got to understand that it doesn’t mean anything and then you won’t get hurt. Do you understand what I mean?”
“I think that Mr. Partisian is sincere.”
“You’re going to get stuck with that pin, babe, don’t forget I told you. Watch those slicks. They are as phony as a lead dime.”
“He’s not phony. He’s a gentleman. He’s a real gentleman. I wish you were a gentleman. “
I gave it up. I sat on the couch and took my scheme sheet and tried to memorize Babcock Boulevard. Babcock broke: 14, 39, 51, 62. What the hell? Couldn’t I remember that?
23
I finally got a day off, and you know what I did? I got up early before Joyce got back in and I went down to the market to do a little shopping, and maybe I was crazy. I walked through the market and instead of getting a nice red steak or even a bit of frying chicken, you know what I did? I hit snake-eyes and walked over to the Oriental section and began filling my basket full of octopi, sea-spiders, snails, seaweed
“I meant to put them in the back porch or outside, you fool!”
“Fool?”
“Yes, you fool! Do you mean to say you let those birds out of the cage? Do you mean to say you really let them out of the cage?”
“Well, all I can say is, they are not locked in the bathroom, they are not in the cupboard.”
“They’ll starve out there!”
“They can catch worms, eat berries, all that stuff.”
“They can’t, they can’t. They don’t know how! They’ll die!”
“Let ‘em learn or let ‘em die,” I said, and then I turned slowly over and went back to sleep. Vaguely, I could hear her cooking her dinner, dropping lids and spoons on the floor, cursing. But Picasso was on the bed with me, Picasso was safe from her sharp shoes. I put my hand out and he licked it and then I slept.
That is, I did for a while. Next thing I knew I was being fondled. I looked up and she was staring into my eyes like a madwoman. She was naked, her breasts dangling in my eyes. Her hair tickling my nostrils. I thought of her millions, picked her up, flipped her on her back and stuck it in.
22
She wasn’t really a cop, she was a clerk-cop. And she started coming in and telling me about a guy who wore a purple stickpin and was a “real gentleman.”
“Oh, he’s so
kind!”
I heard all about him each night.
“Well,” I’d ask, “how was old Purple Stickpin tonight?”
“Oh,” she said, “you know what happened?”
“No, babe, that’s why I’m asking.”
“Oh, he’s SUCH a gentleman!”
“All right. All right. What happened?”
“You know, he has
suffered
so much!”
“Of course.”
“His wife died, you know.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Don’t be so flip. I’m telling you, his wife died and it cost him 15 thousand dollars in medical and burial bills.”
“All right. So?”
“I was walking down the hall. He was coming the other way. We met. He looked at me and with this Turkish accent he said, ‘Ah, you are so beautiful!’ And you know what he did?”
“No, babe, tell me. Tell me quick.”
“He kissed me on the forehead, lightly, ever so lightly. And then he walked on.”
“I can tell you something about him, babe. He’s seen too many movies.”
“How did you know?”
“Whatcha mean?”
“He owns a drive-in theatre. He operates it after work each night.”
“That figures,” I said. “But he’s
such
a gentleman!” she said. “Look, babe, I don’t want to hurt you, but—”
“But what?”
“Look, you’re small-town. I’ve had over 50 jobs, maybe a hundred. I’ve never stayed anywhere long. What I am trying to say is, there is a certain game played in offices all over America. The people are bored, they don’t know what to do, so they play the office-romance game. Most of the time it means nothing but the passing of time. Sometimes they do manage to work off a screw or two on the side. But even then, it is just an offhand pastime, like bowling or t.v. or a New Year’s Eve party. You’ve got to understand that it doesn’t mean anything and then you won’t get hurt. Do you understand what I mean?”
“I think that Mr. Partisian is sincere.”
“You’re going to get stuck with that pin, babe, don’t forget I told you. Watch those slicks. They are as phony as a lead dime.”
“He’s not phony. He’s a gentleman. He’s a real gentleman. I wish you were a gentleman. “
I gave it up. I sat on the couch and took my scheme sheet and tried to memorize Babcock Boulevard. Babcock broke: 14, 39, 51, 62. What the hell? Couldn’t I remember that?
23
I finally got a day off, and you know what I did? I got up early before Joyce got back in and I went down to the market to do a little shopping, and maybe I was crazy. I walked through the market and instead of getting a nice red steak or even a bit of frying chicken, you know what I did? I hit snake-eyes and walked over to the Oriental section and began filling my basket full of octopi, sea-spiders, snails, seaweed
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