He’d reinforced his book shelves with eight-inch cinder block and ammo cases. Porterhouse couldn’t believe the flood of Bukowski books overwhelming him. He figured he’d take a few first editions to Half Price Books, he might find something good to trade for. Or at least he could flirt with the pretty lady, she kept a pint of Old Crow in her desk. They’d slip in the back room and play whiskey river. Porterhouse entered the store and laid his bag containing six Bukowski books. This arrogant punk fucking guy sitting behind the counter looked at his bag with disgust and disdain, like it was a bag of dog shit with flies.
“I need a photo I.D.”
Porterhouse just looked at him. “I did not hear please.”
“Please.”
“Take your I.D. from your wallet.” The line was getting long. “Please.”
“We will call you with your offer.”
Porterhouse found the Bukowski section, they had two copies of his books. They also had Buk for $15 and $20, neither were the two first editions he brought in. Ten minutes later, they called him.
“We’ll give you $11?”
“You must be joking? Give me back my books and if you ask me to say please, you will regret it.” Porterhouse had eaten two big bowls of pinto beans with Tabasco sauce for lunch. He had a hunch the entire store regretted his present when he left. He headed for the nearest liquor store for Mad Dog 20 20 and some Swisher Sweet cigars.
Catfish McDaris won the Thelonius Monk Award in 2015. His 25 years of published material is in the Special Archives Collection at Marquette University in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. He is from
Albuquerque and Milwaukee.
.png)
%20(1).jpeg)
No comments:
Post a Comment