Charles Bukowski

Post Office. Chapter I: 4

When Jonstone saw me the next 5 a.m. he spun in his swivel and his face and his shirt were the same color. But he said nothing. I didn’t care. I had been up to 2 a.m. drinking and screwing with Betty. I leaned back and closed my eyes.

At 7 a.m. Jonstone swiveled again. All the other subs had been assigned jobs or been sent to other stations that needed help.

“That’s all, Chinaski. Nothing for you today.”

He watched my face. Hell, 1 didn’t care. All I wanted to do was go to bed and get some sleep.

“O.K., Stone,” I said. Among the carriers he was known as “The Stone,” but I was the only one who addressed him that way.

I walked out, the old car started and soon I was back in bed with Betty.

“Oh, Hank! How nice!”

“Damn right, baby!” I pushed up against her warm tail and was asleep in 45 seconds.

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