Charles Bukowski

Women: 52

Bobby’s wife worked two nights a week and when she was gone he got on the telephone. I knew that on Tuesday and Thursday nights he would be lonely.

It was Tuesday night when the phone rang. It was Bobby. “Hey, man, mind if I come down and have a few beers?” “All right, Bobby.”

I was sitting in a chair across from Tammie who was on the couch. Bobby came in and sat on the couch. I opened him a beer. Bobby sat and talked to Tammie. The conversation was so inane that I tuned out. But some of it seeped through.

“In the morning,” Bobby said, “I take a cold shower. It really wakes me up.” “I take a cold shower in the morning too,” said Tammie.

“I take a cold shower and then I towel myself off,” Bobby continued, “then I read a magazine or something. Then I’m ready for the day.”

“I just take a cold shower, but I don’t wipe myself off,” said Tammie, “I just let the little drops stay there.”

Bobby said, “Sometimes I take a real hot bath. The water’s so hot that I’ve got to slip in real slow.”

Then Bobby got up and demonstrated how he slipped into his real hot bath.

The conversation moved on to movies and television programs. They both seemed to love movies and television programs.

They talked for 2 or 3 hours, nonstop.

Then Bobby got up. “Well,” he said, “I’ve got to go.”

“Oh, please don’t go, Bobby,” said Tammie.

“No, I’ve got to go.”

Valerie was due home from work.

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