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- Чарльз Буковски
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- Стр. 74/501
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A
dark
young
boy
jumped
up
and
came
over
to
our
table
.
Dee
Dee
introduced
us
.
The
boy
was
from
New
York
,
wrote
for
the
Village
Voice
and
other
New
York
newspapers
.
He
and
Dee
Dee
name
-
dropped
a
while
and
then
he
asked
her
,
"
What
’
s
your
husband
do
?
"
"
I
got
a
stable
,
"
I
said
.
"
Fighters
.
Four
good
Mexican
boys
.
Plus
one
black
boy
,
a
real
dancer
.
What
do
you
weigh
?
"
"
158
.
Were
you
a
fighter
?
Your
face
looks
like
you
caught
a
few
.
"
"
I
’
ve
caught
a
few
.
We
can
put
you
in
at
135
.
I
need
a
southpaw
lightweight
.
"
"
How
’
d
you
know
I
was
a
southpaw
?
"
"
You
’
re
holding
your
cigarette
in
your
left
hand
.
Come
on
down
to
the
Main
Street
gym
.
Monday
am
.
We
’
ll
start
your
training
.
Cigarettes
are
out
.
Put
that
son
of
a
bitch
out
!
"
"
Listen
,
man
,
I
’
m
a
writer
.
I
use
a
typewriter
.
You
never
read
my
stuff
?
"
"
All
I
read
is
the
metropolitan
dailies
-
murders
,
rapes
,
fight
results
,
swindles
,
jetliner
crashes
and
Ann
Landers
.
"
"
Dee
Dee
,
"
he
said
,
"
I
’
ve
got
an
interview
with
Rod
Stewart
in
30
minutes
.
I
gotta
go
.
"
He
left
.
Dee
Dee
ordered
another
round
of
drinks
.
"
Why
can
’
t
you
be
decent
to
people
?
"
she
asked
.
