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- Чарльз Буковски
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- Стр. 300/501
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It
was
a
sweet
little
thing
in
a
short
green
dress
.
"
Yes
?
"
"
Would
you
autograph
this
book
?
"
It
was
an
early
book
of
poems
,
poems
I
had
written
while
working
at
the
post
office
,
It
Runs
Around
the
Room
and
Me
.
I
signed
it
and
made
a
drawing
,
handed
it
back
.
"
Oh
,
thanks
so
much
!
"
She
left
.
All
the
bastards
sitting
around
me
had
killed
any
chance
for
action
.
Soon
there
were
4
or
5
pitchers
of
beer
on
the
table
.
I
ordered
a
sandwich
.
We
drank
2
or
3
hours
,
then
I
went
back
to
the
apartment
.
I
finished
the
beers
in
the
sink
and
went
to
sleep
.
I
don
’
t
remember
much
about
the
reading
but
I
awakened
in
bed
the
next
day
,
alone
.
Joe
Washington
knocked
about
11
am
.
"
Hey
,
man
,
that
was
one
of
your
best
readings
!
"
"
Really
?
You
’
re
not
shitting
me
?
"
"
No
,
you
were
right
there
.
Here
’
s
the
check
.
"
"
Thanks
,
Joe
.
"
"
You
’
re
sure
you
don
’
t
want
to
meet
Burroughs
?
"
I
’
m
sure
.
"
He
’
s
reading
tonight
.
You
going
to
stay
for
his
reading
?
"
"
I
gotta
get
back
to
L
.
A
.
,
Joe
.
"
"
You
ever
heard
him
read
?
"
"
Joe
,
I
want
to
take
a
shower
and
get
out
of
here
.
You
’
re
going
to
drive
me
to
the
airport
?
"
"
Sure
.
"
When
we
left
Burroughs
was
sitting
in
his
chair
by
the
window
.
He
gave
no
indication
of
having
seen
me
.
I
glanced
at
him
and
walked
on
.
I
had
my
check
.
I
was
anxious
to
make
the
racetrack
.
.
.
