I went right up, tiptoeing so as not to arouse family or boarders.

This was a Cape May bar into which the gods of drunkenness had never guided me before, and it was nice, as bars go, small and dark and quiet.

Reluctantly but resignedly I walked over to where Steve sat. A quietly stunning girl who looked vaguely familiar sat next to his right, a nice looking clean-cut guy sat to his left. On that guy’s left was a local mechanic I know named Buddy Kelly, and on the other side of the girl was an [...]

It started to rain again as we walked up Perry Street. Fortunately Elektra had her umbrella, and she opened it up over both of us.

What can you do when someone just invites himself up? Say no?

As soon as Popeye ended, with Popeye in the passionate embrace of Olive Oyl, it hit me for the first time in my life:

So we went up the steps and onto the porch.

After my bath I went to bed. I duly read some more of The Waste Land, making scarce head or tail of it.

“What if I am Jesus?” said Steve. “I mean, that might explain a lot of things. It could be possible, couldn’t it?”

“Oh my God, I love this song,” said Steve.