was a bookstore, and watch your mouth, you don ’ t swear like that at niggers, not in the Apple, they treated niggers different than back in other places, better sometimes, so he muttered “ excuse me, ” and hurried back out of the store.
And all the people were still looking at his clothes.
He went into a liquor store and asked to use the phone but the old Jew just pointed at a sign on the wall— ” No Checks, No Phones ” —and Billy Boy was back in the main corridor again, with all the people staring.
Ahead, at last, he saw some phone booths.
Two empty.
Good luck.
He sat in the first.
Bad luck.
Out of order.
Both.
He got in line to use one of the three working ones. Then he realized he needed the Yellow Pages. It meant maybe losing his place in line but he needed the Yellow Pages bad. So he left the line, opened the book, licked his thumb and forefinger, turned and turned until he found what he needed, then stood in line again.
“ Hero ’ s ” he heard, when his time finally came.
“ Pm new in town, ” Billy Boy said into the phone. “ And I wondered how much things cost here. ”
“ I can ’ t give no prices over the phone, Mac, but I’ll tell you this: we ’ re cheaper than Primo ’ s, we ’ re cheaper than King Size. And our quality ’ s tops. What do you need? ”
“ Maybe a sweater and maybe some pants and a shirt too or like that. Socks. Underwear. Y ’ know. ”
“ The works, huh? Sounds like you got a heavy date. ” And he kind of laughed.
Billy Boy tried to laugh too. What the hell did clothes have to do with women? You wanted a woman, you slipped her some bread, what the fuck did clothes have to do with fucking? “ That ’ s right, the works. But it ’ s gotta fit good. ”
“ How big are you? ”
“ Big enough. And it ’ s gotta fit good. ”
“ We do half the wrestlers play the Garden, just come on in. ”
“ How much though? ”
“ Top quality? Couple hundred ’ ll see you fine. I ’ m interested in customer satisfaction, I never yet lost a sale over money, just come on over. We ’ re open till seven. ”
Couple hundred. Two rich women ought to have that much. Maybe one. This was New York. “ It ’ ll be after dark before I can get there. Where are you; like I said I ’ m new in town. ”
“ Just behind Bloomingdale ’ s, can ’ t miss us. ”
Billy Boy left the booth and found his way as quickly as he could to the men ’ s room to check it out. It was big and not so bad as some. Couple queens off by the far sink, but who cared about a couple queens? He studied the place a long time and it really made him feel good. He could, if he had to, spend the night here. He didn ’ t want that, naturally. A hotel room with a bed would be a ton better. What he wanted was to get the clothes and a couple top-class bottles of whiskey and see a broad for a few minutes and then sleep. But that would require pulling a job or two. If he pulled the job, fine, it was hotel time. If he didn ’ t, not all that bad, he ’ d spend the night here.
Everything depended on one not-so-small point: Was this or wasn ’ t it a lucky day?
“ Is this my lucky day? ”
The Spic lady looked up from doing her nails. There were two kids behind her in the doorway. Behind them, a TV was blaring and men laughed.
Billy Boy waited in the doorway on Eighth Avenue. “ That ’ s all I wanna know, how much? ”
“ You must come in and sit down, ” the Spic lady said. She pointed to the Fortune-teller sign in the window. “ I know everything but not from a distance. ”
Billy Boy sat across from her, held out his hands palms up. “ Is this my lucky day, yes or no, I wanna pull a job so you tell me. ”
She blinked. “ What you mean ‘ pull a job ’ ? ”
‘‘ Get a job, ” Billy Boy said quickly. “ I got to apply after employment and I wanna know should I or maybe it ’ s best if I wait till tomorrow. ” He pushed his hands toward her.
‘ Two palms is ten,
And all the people were still looking at his clothes.
He went into a liquor store and asked to use the phone but the old Jew just pointed at a sign on the wall— ” No Checks, No Phones ” —and Billy Boy was back in the main corridor again, with all the people staring.
Ahead, at last, he saw some phone booths.
Two empty.
Good luck.
He sat in the first.
Bad luck.
Out of order.
Both.
He got in line to use one of the three working ones. Then he realized he needed the Yellow Pages. It meant maybe losing his place in line but he needed the Yellow Pages bad. So he left the line, opened the book, licked his thumb and forefinger, turned and turned until he found what he needed, then stood in line again.
“ Hero ’ s ” he heard, when his time finally came.
“ Pm new in town, ” Billy Boy said into the phone. “ And I wondered how much things cost here. ”
“ I can ’ t give no prices over the phone, Mac, but I’ll tell you this: we ’ re cheaper than Primo ’ s, we ’ re cheaper than King Size. And our quality ’ s tops. What do you need? ”
“ Maybe a sweater and maybe some pants and a shirt too or like that. Socks. Underwear. Y ’ know. ”
“ The works, huh? Sounds like you got a heavy date. ” And he kind of laughed.
Billy Boy tried to laugh too. What the hell did clothes have to do with women? You wanted a woman, you slipped her some bread, what the fuck did clothes have to do with fucking? “ That ’ s right, the works. But it ’ s gotta fit good. ”
“ How big are you? ”
“ Big enough. And it ’ s gotta fit good. ”
“ We do half the wrestlers play the Garden, just come on in. ”
“ How much though? ”
“ Top quality? Couple hundred ’ ll see you fine. I ’ m interested in customer satisfaction, I never yet lost a sale over money, just come on over. We ’ re open till seven. ”
Couple hundred. Two rich women ought to have that much. Maybe one. This was New York. “ It ’ ll be after dark before I can get there. Where are you; like I said I ’ m new in town. ”
“ Just behind Bloomingdale ’ s, can ’ t miss us. ”
Billy Boy left the booth and found his way as quickly as he could to the men ’ s room to check it out. It was big and not so bad as some. Couple queens off by the far sink, but who cared about a couple queens? He studied the place a long time and it really made him feel good. He could, if he had to, spend the night here. He didn ’ t want that, naturally. A hotel room with a bed would be a ton better. What he wanted was to get the clothes and a couple top-class bottles of whiskey and see a broad for a few minutes and then sleep. But that would require pulling a job or two. If he pulled the job, fine, it was hotel time. If he didn ’ t, not all that bad, he ’ d spend the night here.
Everything depended on one not-so-small point: Was this or wasn ’ t it a lucky day?
“ Is this my lucky day? ”
The Spic lady looked up from doing her nails. There were two kids behind her in the doorway. Behind them, a TV was blaring and men laughed.
Billy Boy waited in the doorway on Eighth Avenue. “ That ’ s all I wanna know, how much? ”
“ You must come in and sit down, ” the Spic lady said. She pointed to the Fortune-teller sign in the window. “ I know everything but not from a distance. ”
Billy Boy sat across from her, held out his hands palms up. “ Is this my lucky day, yes or no, I wanna pull a job so you tell me. ”
She blinked. “ What you mean ‘ pull a job ’ ? ”
‘‘ Get a job, ” Billy Boy said quickly. “ I got to apply after employment and I wanna know should I or maybe it ’ s best if I wait till tomorrow. ” He pushed his hands toward her.
‘ Two palms is ten,
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