Bone in the Throat by Anthony Bourdain Page A

game. "You want a Diet Pepsi?"
    Harvey waved his hand dismissively and sat down in a scratchy, floral-print chair that made his back itch.
    "And Fort Lee," he asked. "I got to come all the way out to Fort fuckin' Lee? You know it's four fuckin' dollars get back in the city?"
    "Just looking after your security there, Harvey," said Al. "So how'd it go?"
    "I thought he was going to pat me down or something. I'm standing there with the guy and I'm thinking, These guys are huggin' each other all the time. What happens he gives me a hug and feels it there. I end up in the fuckin' trunk of a car. One pat on the back and that's it. You know he put his hand on my shoulder. I thought I was gonna let go in my pants."
    "But it went alright?"
    "I'm here aren't I?"
    "So what happened?" asked Al.
    "We went out for a walk-talk," said Harvey. "Down Spring, up West Broadway, over Prince, and back. He was nervous. Says people are watching him, he's got to be careful."
    "Well, he's right about that," said Al.
    "I gave him the money," said Harvey.
    "All of it?" asked Al. "You didn't give him a story?"
    "I gave him what I was supposed to. It's on tape."
    "He say anything interesting?"
    "It's all on the fuckin' tape," said Harvey. "Listen to it."
    "I want to hear it from you," said Al. "What did he say? How did he seem? Happy? Sad? Nervous? Whimsical? What?"
    "He seemed nervous. And pissed off about something. Didn't talk much. Just 'Where's the money, make sure you have it together for next week.' He asked about the other people. The people from Brooklyn. Whether I'd seen any of them around."
    "What did you say?"
    "I said no. What do you think?"
    "Did he believe you?"
    "I don't know. Like I said, he seemed pissed about something."
    Harvey got up from his chair and went to the bathroom. He took a few sheets of toilet paper and wiped under his arms. He found a water glass wrapped in paper on the counter. He took one of the sodas off the night table, unwrapped the glass, and poured himself half a glass of Diet Pepsi.
    "Shit is warm."
    "Sorry, I've been here awhile. It was cold when I got it."
    "They don't have ice here?"
    "There's a machine by the office," said Al. "But I didn't want to leave the room."
    "I didn't see your little red Alfa out there," said Harvey.
    "No. I got something else today," said Al. "You see the black van on the other side of the lot? Got a sunroof and a mural on the side? That's me."
    Harvey peered through the blinds. The van was parked all the way over. The mural on the side depicted a black man standing in front of some extraterrestrial landscape, surrounded by bejeweled naked women with melon-sized breasts, "Who's the schvoogie on the side?" Harvey inquired.
    "Jimi Hendrix," said Al. "I think so anyway. It's a fuckin' seventies whorehouse on wheels, that thing. Carpet, beanbag chairs. Got it off DEA, they took it oft some druggie—Florida, I think."
    Harvey took a sip of his warm soda and sat back in the chair.
    "I went out with the chef the other night," he said.
    "That's Michael, the chef—isn't it?"
    "Yeah," said Harvey. "He's French, you know. Or his family's French. I don't know,"
    "So?"
    "Well we go out for some drinks together. Talk about the menu, discuss a few things. Well, all night long he's bitchin' about his chef's knife. It's some expensive Jap knife he got custom made, costs about a million dollars, they got to measure your hand and everything to make it. Anyway, he's bitchin' about it getting all fucked up. He comes in the other day and it's all beaten to shit like somebody's been pounding on it with a hammer. There was chunks missing out of the thing, blade all bent up. Like somebody tried to cut through a chain-link fence with it. So after he comes into my office and a lot of pissing and moaning, I sent him out to get a new one. Cost me five hundred bucks. So we're sitting there at this bar and he's going on and on about his fuckin' knife and who could have done such a thing and I start thinking. I'm