A Fairy Tale of New York Read Online Free PDF Page B

establishment. Skipping and clapping hands in the cold. Encouraging in the customers. This way folks. To Mr Vine. Knows sorrow like the back of his hand. A reduction if there's two of you. His shade of mouth paint will suit you better than the one you're using now. Your husband won't be able to keep his lips off you in the coffin. This way folks. What's happened to Vine has happened to me except I didn't embalm my wife or meet her in a drugstore. His tiny feet. He looks so much bigger than he is. A man who has armies or ships. And wins battles. While he watches the lips of women. What does he do these days for orgasms.
    ''Mr Christian you 're miles away.''
    ''Just admiring your green curtain.''
    "I never let the light of day in here. That way I let my own mind roam. Being a Texan it's natural to me. That's a beautiful word isn't it. Texan.''
    "Yes."
    "There are a lot of beautiful things. Early this morning I was out trying to stop those sons of bitches trying to park in my loading zone. Three young girls passed by. They go to a select private school up the block. Young gracious girls. They were laughing about something. And it was beautiful to watch. They weren't aware of their grace. They come from good homes on the upper east side and ride downtown on the elevated train. And right in its shadows lie broken men. Men who might have once been just like those girls' fathers. With high salaries and big responsibilities. Now their salaries are gone. I buried one of them. He used to panhandle on the corner. Sometimes I take the train myself. I'd give him a quarter. A year before he was a company vice president down on Wall Street. But deep down in the back of his eyes you could see that he was from Michigan, just a poor lost kid in the big city. His wife and kids still live in a nice apartment with rustic type architecture in Forest Hills, Queens. Do you know not one of them would come to his funeral. They said they could prove if they had to that they didn't know who he was. It's that kind of human frailty that sickens you. But I haven't yet lost my faith in human nature. You meet people like them. And you meet people like you. Of quality. Which I define just by calling you a gentleman.''
    "How much would I be paid.''
    "Mr Christian you're surprising. Ok the remuneration. Seventy five a week. Plus the clearing of your debt after six months. You'd be working under Fritz till you get the hang of things. He's sick with pneumonia now. But Mr Hardwicke at my west side branch would always be available for advice when I wasn't around. He's my top man. Meanwhile you'd be co host here with Miss Musk. Once in a while you'd take a doctor or nurse out for a drink. They can be helpful in this business. At nine o'clock we call muster out there in the hall. Start the ball rolling."
    "You mean stiffs."
    Vine thrusting out a lower lip. Lifting his chin. Waiting as Christian waits. And taking a deep breath. Which he sighs out slowly.
    "I do not like that statement. And I hope it's the last time I will hear it. It's a word we don't use here. I know sometimes people have to be cynical. It relieves their fear. They often talk about us with smart remarks. But just as some other people love and respect what they do for a living so do I. But let's forget that. When my upper east side branch opens, that's when your opportunity will come. That branch will be endowed with the ultimate in funeral service in this city. No solemnity which can add grace or reverence to the carriage of death will be wanting."
    Behind Vine's head a glass cabinet of leather gold embossed volumes. MODERN MORTUARY SCIENCE, ANATOMY AND POST MORTEM SANITATION, ORGANIC CHEMISTRY, CHAMPION TEXTBOOK ON EMBALMING and ANATOMY FOR EMBALMERS. Vine leans back. A pencil tightly gripped in his fingers. A smile on his lips.
    "Now you're going to be too hot in that suit Mr Christian. I keep the thermometer at seventy eight point five on the button during the winter months. Sorrow demands a