Page 133 - Sweet Embraceable You: Coffee-House Stories

The Barber of 18th and Castro 121

with me to the beach. So maybe he will talk to me first the way the
others will talk to me later.”
“Maybe you should forget him and them and figure out what
you want.”
“I just want one SOB and one SOS one right after the other. I
want some of the pleasure of all of the danger if I’m going to suffer
the damage anyway.”
“You’re talking crazy,” Floyd said. “You’re going to fit right in
with all the fruits and flakes. You’re a nut.”
“No, I ain’t,” Robert Place said, “but so what if I am?” He held
up the picture like a holy icon. “Only he can tell me.”
“Sure,” Floyd said, “you’ve got that pornographic picture.”
“It’s the Face of God!”
“I’ve seen London,” Floyd, W. C. Fields, said, “and I’ve seen
France. I’ve seen the queen in her underpants.”
“Are you making fun of me?” Robert said.
“I wouldn’t dare make fun of you,” Floyd said. “My blood
sugar’s too low to keep this up. My prescription for you is to get
laid twice before bedtime, and don’t call me in the morning.”
“What does all that mean? Everything means some thing.”
“It means,” Floyd said, “you’ve come to the right place. It
means, Welcome to San Francisco. Welcome to Rainbow County.”
“That’s better,” Robert Place said. “I like that attitude much
better.”
“Have you ever thought,” Floyd said, raising his SORRY
CLOSED shade and opening the door, “about maybe swallowing
something you can buy on the street to lay yourself back some,
about letting your hair grow long again?”
“Why, Floyd,” Robert said, halfway down to the first landing,
“You surprise me. I would never have figured you to be one to turn
away business. I’m going out and I’m staying out...”
“You’re coming out.”
“...until he talks to me. So you’ll see me again. A real regular.
Plan on it. I intend to show your Rainbow County a thing or two.

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