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.
.
.
It
was
true
.
Up
on
the
third
floor
.
One
of
the
profs
had
brought
a
fifth
of
whiskey
.
Another
gave
me
a
check
for
the
reading
,
plus
air
fare
,
and
we
sat
around
and
drank
the
whiskey
and
talked
.
I
blacked
out
.
When
I
came
to
everybody
was
gone
and
there
was
half
a
fifth
left
.
I
sat
there
drinking
and
thinking
,
hey
,
you
’
re
Chinaski
,
Chinaski
the
legend
.
You
’
ve
got
an
image
.
Now
you
’
re
in
the
women
’
s
dorm
.
Hundreds
of
women
in
this
place
,
hundreds
of
them
.
All
I
had
on
were
my
shorts
and
stockings
.
I
walked
out
into
the
hall
up
to
the
nearest
door
.
I
knocked
.
"
Hey
,
I
’
m
Henry
Chinaski
,
the
immortal
writer
!
Open
up
!
I
wanna
show
you
something
!
"
I
heard
the
girls
giggling
.
"
O
.
K
.
now
,
"
I
said
,
"
how
many
of
you
are
in
there
?
2
?
3
?
It
doesn
’
t
matter
.
I
can
handle
3
!
No
problem
!
Hear
me
?
Open
up
!
I
have
this
HUGE
purple
thing
!
Listen
,
I
’
ll
beat
on
the
door
with
it
!
"
I
took
my
fist
and
beat
on
the
door
.
They
kept
giggling
.
"
So
.
You
’
re
not
going
to
let
Chinaski
in
,
eh
?
Well
,
FUCK
YOU
!
"
I
tried
the
next
door
.
"
Hey
,
girls
!
This
is
the
best
poet
of
the
last
18
hundred
years
!
Open
the
door
!
I
’
m
gonna
show
you
something
!
Sweet
meat
for
your
vaginal
lips
!
"
I
tried
the
next
door
.
I
tried
all
the
doors
on
that
floor
and
then
I
walked
down
the
stairway
and
worked
all
the
doors
on
the
second
floor
and
then
all
the
doors
on
the
first
.
I
had
the
whiskey
with
me
and
I
got
tired
.
It
seemed
like
hours
since
I
had
left
my
room
.
I
drank
as
I
walked
along
.
No
luck
.
