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"

Hey

,

Sally

!

You

want

me

trimma

tree

for

ya

?

Ya

want

me

to

?

Huh

?

"

"

Yes

.

Good

night

.

Go

home

and

go

to

bed

.

"

She

hung

up

on

me

.

Отключить рекламу

"

G'night

.

G'night

,

Sally

baby

.

Sally

sweetheart

darling

,

"

I

said

.

Can

you

imagine

how

drunk

I

was

?

I

hung

up

too

,

then

.

I

figured

she

probably

just

came

home

from

a

date

.

I

pictured

her

out

with

the

Lunts

and

all

somewhere

,

and

that

Andover

jerk

.

All

of

them

swimming

around

in

a

goddam

pot

of

tea

and

saying

sophisticated

stuff

to

each

other

and

being

charming

and

phony

.

I

wished

to

God

I

had

n't

even

phoned

her

.

When

I

'm

drunk

,

I

'm

a

madman

.

I

stayed

in

the

damn

phone

booth

for

quite

a

while

.

I

kept

holding

onto

the

phone

,

sort

of

,

so

I

would

n't

pass

out

.

I

was

n't

feeling

too

marvelous

,

to

tell

you

the

truth

.

Finally

,

though

,

I

came

out

and

went

in

the

men

's

room

,

staggering

around

like

a

moron

,

and

filled

one

of

the

washbowls

with

cold

water

.

Then

I

dunked

my

head

in

it

,

right

up

to

the

ears

.

I

did

n't

even

bother

to

dry

it

or

anything

.

I

just

let

the

sonuvabitch

drip

.

Then

I

walked

over

to

this

radiator

by

the

window

and

sat

down

on

it

.

It

was

nice

and

warm

.

It

felt

good

because

I

was

shivering

like

a

bastard

.

It

's

a

funny

thing

,

I

always

shiver

like

hell

when

I

'm

drunk

.

I

did

n't

have

anything

else

to

do

,

so

I

kept

sitting

on

the

radiator

and

counting

these

little

white

squares

on

the

floor

.

I

was

getting

soaked

.

About

a

gallon

of

water

was

dripping

down

my

neck

,

getting

all

over

my

collar

and

tie

and

all

,

but

I

did

n't

give

a

damn

.

I

was

too

drunk

to

give

a

damn

.

Then

,

pretty

soon

,

the

guy

that

played

the

piano

for

old

Valencia

,

this

very

wavyhaired

,

flitty-looking

guy

,

came

in

to

comb

his

golden

locks

.

We

sort

of

struck

up

a

conversation

while

he

was

combing

it

,

except

that

he

was

n't

too

goddam

friendly

.

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"

Hey

.

You

gon

na

see

that

Valencia

babe

when

you

go

back

in

the

bar

?

"

I

asked

him

.

"

It

's

highly

probable

,

"

he

said

.

Witty

bastard

.

All

I

ever

meet

is

witty

bastards

.

"

Listen

.

Give

her

my

compliments

.

Ask

her

if

that

goddam

waiter

gave

her

my

message

,

willya

?

"

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