The Most Beautiful Woman in Town Read Online Free PDF Page A

the U.S. Navy and if he were here right now, he’d thrash you good.”
    â€œHe probably would, and that would only make me more vile.”
    â€œAt least it would teach you to be a gentleman around ladies.”
    â€œI suppose you’re right. If I killed Mussolini, would I be a gentleman?”
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œI’ll sign right up.”
    â€œThey didn’t want you. Remember?”
    â€œI remember.”
    We both sat there a long time, not saying anything. Then I said, “Look, do you mind if I ask you something?”
    â€œGo ahead,” she said.
    â€œWhy did you ask me to get off the bus with you? And why did you cry when I didn’t?”
    â€œWell, it’s your face. You’re a little bit ugly, you know.”
    â€œYes, I know.”
    â€œWell, it’s ugly and tragic too. I just didn’t want to let that ‘tragic’ go. I felt sorry for you, so I cried. How did your face ever get so tragic?”
    â€œO jesus christ,” I said, then I got up and walked out.
    I walked all the way back to the whorehouse. The guy at the door knew me.
    â€œHey, champ, where’d you get the lip?”
    â€œSomething about Texas.”
    â€œTexas? Were you for or against Texas?”
    â€œFor Texas, of course.”
    â€œYou’re learnin’, champ.”
    â€œYeah, I know.”
    I walked upstairs and got on the phone and got the guy to dial me the editor of the newspaper.
    â€œThis is Bukowski, my friend.”
    â€œYou met the lady?”
    â€œI met the lady.”
    â€œHow’d it work out?”
    â€œFine. Just fine. I must have creamed an hour. Tell your columnist.”
    I hung up.
    I walked downstairs and outside and found the same bar. Nothing had changed. The big guy was still there, an empty barstool on either side of him. I sat down and ordered 2 beers. I drank the first one straight down. Then drank half the other.
    â€œI remember you,” said the big guy, “what was it about you?”
    â€œSkin. Sensitive.”
    â€œYou remember me?” he asked.
    â€œI remember you.”
    â€œI thought you’d never be back.”
    â€œI’m back. Let’s play the little game.”
    â€œWe don’t play games here in Texas, stranger.”
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œYou still think Texans stink?”
    â€œSome of them do.”
    There I was back under the table. I got out from under, stood up and walked out. I walked back to the whorehouse.
    The next day in the paper it said that the Romance had failed. I had flown out of town to New Orleans. I got my stuff together and walked down to the bus station. I got to New Orleans, got a legitimate room and sat around. I saved the newspaper clippings for a couple of weeks, then threw them away. Wouldn’t you have?

SIX INCHES
    The first three months of my marriage to Sarah were acceptable but I’d say a little after that our troubles began. She was a good cook, and for the first time in years I was eating well. I began to put on weight. And Sarah began to make remarks.
    â€œAh, Henry, you’re beginning to look like a turkey they’re plumping up for Thanksgiving.”
    â€œAts right, baby,” I told her.
    I was a shipping clerk in an auto parts warehouse and the pay was hardly sufficient. My only joys were eating, drinking beer and going to bed with Sarah. Not exactly a rounded life but a man had to take what he could get. Sarah was plenty. Everything about her spelled S—E—X. I had really gotten to know her at a Christmas party for the employees at the warehouse. Sarah was a secretary there. I noticed none of the fellows got near her at the party and I couldn’t understand it. I had never seen a sexier woman and she didn’t act the fool either. I got close to her and we drank and talked. She was beautiful. There was something odd about her eyes, though. They just kept looking into you and the eyelids didn’t