|Iris color:||Bright gray-blue|
|My Zodiac sign:||Cancer|
|My figure type:||My figure features is quite slim|
|What I prefer to drink:||Vodka|
|What I prefer to listen:||Reggae|
Without coming to any particular agreement we began holding hands, and in the same way it was mutely and beautifully and purely decided that when I got my hotel room in L. I ached all over for her; I leaned my face in her beautiful hair.
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I wanted to meet them all, talk to everybody, but Terry hurried along, we were busy trying to get a buck together, like everybody else. Right across the street there was trouble. The bus arrived in Hollywood. First we had to work and earn enough money for the trip. I saw her sitting alone. I never confessed this to her. I was tired and felt strange and lost in a faraway, disgusting place. Then, two tired angels of some kind, hung up forlornly in an L. For the next fifteen days we were together for better or worse.
Even then I had to spend five minutes beating my thighs in the dark as the bus rolled down the road.
I felt like putting my arms around her right away. A pain stabbed my heart, as it did every time I saw a girl I loved who was going the opposite direction in this too-big world. You have to be a goddam pimp like all of them!
I swear to you on the Bible I am not a pimp. I was sweating as we went down the street hand in hand.
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Pretty soon she was saying she wished she could go to New York too. The beatest characters in the country swarmed on the sidewalks; all of it under those soft Southern California stars that are lost in the brown halo of the huge desert encampment L. You could smell tea, weed, I mean marijuana floating in the air, together with the chili beans and beer. The first hotel we hit had a vacant room and before I knew it I was locking the door behind me and she was sitting on the bed taking off her shoes.
I let it drop. I was so lonely, so sad, so tired, so quivering, so broken, so beat that I got up my courage, the courage necessary to approach a strange girl, and acted. I poured one big drink in a waterglass and we had slugs. There was a dead silence in the bathroom. In reverent and sweet silence she took her things off and slipped her tiny body into the sheets with me.
How sad it was. Her story was this; she had a husband and .
South Main street, where Terry and I took strolls with hotdogs, was a fantastic carnival of lights and wildness. Her legs were like little sticks. Booted cops frisked people on practically every comer. I never felt sadder in my life. I envisioned wild complexities, a season, a new season.
I ran out and fiddled all over for twelve blocks hurrying till I found a pint of whiskey for sale at a newsstand.
It was brown as grapes. She was slow and hungup in everything she did; it took her a long time to eat, she chewed slowly and stared into space, and smoked a cigarette slowly, and kept talking, and I was like a haggard ghost suspicioning every move she made, thinking she was stalling for girl. She was only four foot ten. I stood behind her at the mirror and we danced in the bathroom that way. The bus groaned up Grapevine Pass and then we were coming down into the great sprawls of light. We were happy as kids in our little hotel room. I had bought my ticket and was waiting for the L. She was in one of the buses that had mexican pulled in with a big sigh of air littles and was discharging passengers for a rest stop.
I wished I was on her bus. I was so glad, I hugged myself and said 'Hmm a real nice boy instead of a damn cute I made love to her in the sweetness of the weary morning. We ate breakfast and a pimp kept watching us; I fancied Terry was making secret eyes at him. I ran back all energy. It turned my gut. I kissed her meekly.
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It was as simple as that. Everybody looked like Hunkey. She said she loved to talk with me.
Fellows kept turning and looking at us. She had nothing to do but brood and get mad. This was all a fit of sickness. Terry was all for starting at once with my twenty dollars.
What brutal, hot, siren-whining nights they are! We decided to hitch-hike to New York together; she was going to be my girl in town. The cruiser was pulled up below and the cops were questioning an old man with gray hair. We got off the bus at Main Street which was no different than where you get off a bus in Kansas City or Chicago or Boston, redbrick, dirty, characters drifting by, trolleys grating in the hopeless dawn, the whorey smell of a big city.
I could hear everything, together with the hum of my hotel neon. Her little shoulders drove me mad, I hugged her and hugged her. And no! Her breasts stuck out straight; her little thighs looked delicious; her hair was long and lustrous black; and her eyes were great blue windows with timidities inside. I dropped right opposite her on the other window and began scheming right off. The goof of terror took over my thoughts and made me act petty and cheap.
Damn fool talk to her! That grand wild sound of bop floated from beerparlor jukes, Dizzy and Bird and Bags and early Miles; it mixed medleys with every-kind of cowboy and boogiewoogie in the American night. She began to get drunk in the bathroom.
She confessed she saw me watching from the bus station bench.
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Our minds with their store of madness had diverged. The husband beat her so she left him, back at Sabinal south of Fresno, and was going to L. She left her little son with her family, who were grape pickers and lived in a shack in the vineyards.
Why should I be a pimp. When a limousine passed they rushed eagerly to the curb and ducked to look: some character in dark glasses sat inside with a bejewelled blonde. I looked greedily out the window; stucco houses and palms and Drive-ins, the whole mad thing, the ragged promised land, the fantastic end of America. Wild negroes with bop caps and goatees came laughing by; then longhaired broken-down hipsters straight off route 66 from New York, then old desert rats carrying packs and heading for a park bench at the Plaza, then Methodist ministers with ravelled sleeves, and an occasional Nature Boy saint in beard and sandals.
To relax our nerves I knew we needed whiskey, especially me.
Sunset and Vine! The questions that were asked of us in upstairs offices to determine our fitness for the slime of the sodafountain greaseracks were so sinister that I had to laugh. I gloated over her. I waited till she looked at me, with a sad little sidelook of love, and I got right up and leaned over her. Great families off jalopies from the hinterlands stood around the sidewalk gaping for sight of some movie star and the movie star never showed up.
And she loved it. I promised her beautiful love. I began talking about my friends back east. Sobbings came from within. I took my clothes off and went to bed. An old rickety rundown roominghouse was the scene of some kind of tragedy. We went to Hollywood to try to work in the drugstore at Sunset and Vine. My only interest is you. O gruesome life how I moaned and pleaded and then I got mad and realized I was pleading with a dumb little Mexican wench and I told her so; and before I knew it I picked up her red pumps and threw them at the bathroom door and told her to get out.
We talked and talked. Terry was in the bathroom fixing her face. Oh it was sweet and delicious and worth my whole life and lugubrious voyage. Our stories were told, we subsided into silence and sweet anticipatory thoughts. Terry came out with tears of sorriness in her eyes. And like a damnfool I considered the problem for two days reading the want of wild new L. The situation was growing.