don't happen to be in a Japanese movie.
The job, according to Bones, was a wedding job. Two society families, he couldn't remember the names. But the groom had just got out of medical school, Dr. Somebody-wait a minute, Bones would get it in a minute-Dr. Coolidge, was it?
He was sure the kid was a doctor, there were a lot of doctors at the wedding that night, Cooper, that was it. Dr. Harvey Cooper! Everybody in tuxedos and long gowns, a real swanky affair with good-looking guys and gorgeous broads-especially one blonde who kept hanging around the bandstand all night long, giving Santo the eye. According to Bones, the blonde- who had not so much as put in a bit-appearance in Barragan's story-was one of those tall, healthy-looking, full-breasted, long-legged women he always associated with California. Man, the women out there were enough to drive a man out of his gourd, especially if the man happened to be a musician, which Bones happened to be. He could remember one time, this was after the Chadderton band broke up, he was doing a series of one-nighters on the Pacific coast, from the Mexican border all the way up to-
Meyer said he hated to interrupt, but he wanted to get back to the city at a decent hour, and also he didn't want to cut in on Bones's television viewing, which he understood-
"No, that's okay," Bones said, "television stinks anyway, all cops-and-robbers shit," and went on to conclude his story about this woman he'd met in Pasadena, big tennis-playing California-type woman, long legs and great tits, pearly white teeth, took her to his room back at the motel, showed her how a black man aces a serve in there, yessir, showed her a few little tricks she hadn't picked up out there on the Coast.
"Well, that's fine," Meyer said, "but about Santo-"
"I'm only saying," Bones said, "that there's a certain kind of woman can easily be classified as a California woman, do you dig?"
"I dig," Meyer said.
"It's a type, man, you fathom me?"
"I fathom you," Meyer said. "You're saying this woman who was hanging around the bandstand that night was a California type, I get you. Blond and tall and-"
"Big titted."
"Yes, and long legged."
"Right, and lots of white teeth. California, man. That's what that is, man, a California type. Do you understand me now?"
"Yes, I do," Meyer said. "So what happened with this woman? You wouldn't remember her name, would you?"
"Her name was Margaret Henderson, she was married to a man named Thomas Henderson, who happened to be chairman of the dance they were throwing at the tennis club out there, where Margaret had won the women's singles."
"That's in Pasadena, you mean."
"Yeah. Margaret Henderson. Big tall blond lady with gorgeous gams and the biggest set of-"
"I meant the one here at the Shalimar."
"No, not as big as Margaret's. Nice, you understand, full, very nice-but not like Margaret's."
"I meant her name," Meyer said.
"Oh. No, I wouldn't know her name. It was Santo who spent all the time with her."
Bones went on to say that the way Santo had spent his time with the mysterious blond lady who had no name was by dancing very close to her while the relief band (Bones seemed to think the other band was the relief band, whereas Barragan believed just the opposite) played these very slow tunes that could put a person to sleep. Didn't put Santo to sleep, though, not with this gorgeous California-type no-name lady in his arms dressed all in white, slinky white satin gown slit almost to the thighs, suntanned tennis-player legs showing on both sides of the gown, gold bracelets on her arms, flashing those white teeth at him, long blond hair falling to her naked shoulders, sweet California lady, mmm, sweet.
"Man, she had him in her spell from minute number one," Bones said.
"What do you mean?" Meyer
The job, according to Bones, was a wedding job. Two society families, he couldn't remember the names. But the groom had just got out of medical school, Dr. Somebody-wait a minute, Bones would get it in a minute-Dr. Coolidge, was it?
He was sure the kid was a doctor, there were a lot of doctors at the wedding that night, Cooper, that was it. Dr. Harvey Cooper! Everybody in tuxedos and long gowns, a real swanky affair with good-looking guys and gorgeous broads-especially one blonde who kept hanging around the bandstand all night long, giving Santo the eye. According to Bones, the blonde- who had not so much as put in a bit-appearance in Barragan's story-was one of those tall, healthy-looking, full-breasted, long-legged women he always associated with California. Man, the women out there were enough to drive a man out of his gourd, especially if the man happened to be a musician, which Bones happened to be. He could remember one time, this was after the Chadderton band broke up, he was doing a series of one-nighters on the Pacific coast, from the Mexican border all the way up to-
Meyer said he hated to interrupt, but he wanted to get back to the city at a decent hour, and also he didn't want to cut in on Bones's television viewing, which he understood-
"No, that's okay," Bones said, "television stinks anyway, all cops-and-robbers shit," and went on to conclude his story about this woman he'd met in Pasadena, big tennis-playing California-type woman, long legs and great tits, pearly white teeth, took her to his room back at the motel, showed her how a black man aces a serve in there, yessir, showed her a few little tricks she hadn't picked up out there on the Coast.
"Well, that's fine," Meyer said, "but about Santo-"
"I'm only saying," Bones said, "that there's a certain kind of woman can easily be classified as a California woman, do you dig?"
"I dig," Meyer said.
"It's a type, man, you fathom me?"
"I fathom you," Meyer said. "You're saying this woman who was hanging around the bandstand that night was a California type, I get you. Blond and tall and-"
"Big titted."
"Yes, and long legged."
"Right, and lots of white teeth. California, man. That's what that is, man, a California type. Do you understand me now?"
"Yes, I do," Meyer said. "So what happened with this woman? You wouldn't remember her name, would you?"
"Her name was Margaret Henderson, she was married to a man named Thomas Henderson, who happened to be chairman of the dance they were throwing at the tennis club out there, where Margaret had won the women's singles."
"That's in Pasadena, you mean."
"Yeah. Margaret Henderson. Big tall blond lady with gorgeous gams and the biggest set of-"
"I meant the one here at the Shalimar."
"No, not as big as Margaret's. Nice, you understand, full, very nice-but not like Margaret's."
"I meant her name," Meyer said.
"Oh. No, I wouldn't know her name. It was Santo who spent all the time with her."
Bones went on to say that the way Santo had spent his time with the mysterious blond lady who had no name was by dancing very close to her while the relief band (Bones seemed to think the other band was the relief band, whereas Barragan believed just the opposite) played these very slow tunes that could put a person to sleep. Didn't put Santo to sleep, though, not with this gorgeous California-type no-name lady in his arms dressed all in white, slinky white satin gown slit almost to the thighs, suntanned tennis-player legs showing on both sides of the gown, gold bracelets on her arms, flashing those white teeth at him, long blond hair falling to her naked shoulders, sweet California lady, mmm, sweet.
"Man, she had him in her spell from minute number one," Bones said.
"What do you mean?" Meyer
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