Tales of the City 01 - Tales of the City

graphic for Michael. “ ‘Bass Weejuns.’ Big capital letters, like.”
    “Catchy wording.”
    “I get a lotta calls. Collegiate types. Lotta guys get sick of the glitter fairies in this town.”
    “I can imagine.”
    The man moved closer, lowering his voice. “You ever … done it in ‘em.”
    “Not to my recollection. Look … if you’ve got six pairs, how come you’re not wearing any tonight?”
    The man was aghast at his faux pas. “I always wear my Tigers with my rugby shirt!”
    “Right.”
    He held his foot up for examination. “They’re just like Billy
    Sive’s. In The Front Runner .“

Sherry and Sympathy
    M RS. MADRIGAL SEEMED ODDLY SUBDUED WHEN she opened the door.
    “Mona, dear …”
    “Hi. I thought you might like company.”
    “Certainly.”
    “That’s a lie, actually. I thought I might like company.”
    “Well, it works both ways, doesn’t it? Come in.”
    The landlady poured a glass of sherry for her tenant. “Is Michael out?”
    Mona nodded. “Taking the vapors, I think.”
    “I see.”
    “God knows when he’ll be back.”
    “He’s a sweet boy, Mona. I approve of him wholeheartedly.”
    Mona sniffed. “You make it sound like we’re married or something.”
    “There are all kinds of marriages, dear.”
    “I don’t think you understand the trip with me and Michael.”
    “Mona … lots of things are more binding than sex. They last longer too. When I was … little, my mother once told me that if a married couple puts a penny in a pot for every time they make love in the first year, and takes a penny out every time after that, they’ll never get all the pennies out of the pot…. Damn! I haven’t thought of that in years.”
    “That’s a trip.”
    Mrs. Madrigal smiled. “It’s also a comfort to those of us who never put in too many pennies in the first place.”
    Mona sipped her sherry, embarrassed.
    “Have you and Michael talked, dear?”
    “About you?”
    The landlady nodded.
    “I … no. I think that’s up to you.”
    “You’re very close. He must have asked you questions.”
    “No. Nothing.”
    “I don’t mind, you know … with him.”
    “I understand … but I think it’s up to you.”
    “Thank you, dear.”
    “I lost my job,” Mona said at last.
    “What?”
    “The old son-of-a-bitch fired me.”
    “Who?”
    “Edgar Halcyon. His son-in-law put the badmouth on me, and the old man tossed me out on my can.”
    “Mona … why on earth would he …?”
    Mona snorted. “You don’t know Edgar Halcyon. He’s the biggest asshole on the Barbary Coast.”
    “Mona!”
    “Well, he is. It was a relief, actually. I loathed that job … all that crap about demographics and consumer profiles and …”
    “Did you … do something, Mona?”
    “I was honest with a client. The Ultimate No-No.”
    “What did you say?”
    “It doesn’t matter.”
    “Mona! It matters to me!”
    “Jesus! What’s with you?”
    “I … I’m sorry. I didn’t mean … Are you all right, Mona? Financially, I mean?”
    “Yeah, sure. I can pay the rent.”
    “I didn’t mean that.”
    “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I’m fine, Mrs. Madrigal. Really.”
    She wasn’t fine. She left ten minutes later, returned to her apartment and took the Quaalude. It put her to sleep.
    Michael was back at one-thirty. He woke her on the couch. “You O.K., Babycakes? Don’t you wanna go to bed?”
    “No. This is O.K.”
    “This is Chuck, Mona.”
    “Hi, Chuck.”
    “Hi, Mona.”
    “Sleep tight, Babycakes.”
    “You too.”
    The two men went into Michael’s bedroom and closed the door.

The Rap about Rape
    D EDE FOUND HER MOTHER ON THE TERRACE AT HAL cyon Hill, aghast over the 1976 San Francisco Social Register.
    “I don’t believe it! I don’t believe it!”
    “Mother, will you put that down for a …”
    “They are listed. They are actually listed .”
    “Who?”
    “Those dreadful people who bought the old Feeney place on Broadway. Viola told me they were listed, but I simply couldn’t …”
    “He speaks seven languages, Mother.”
    “I don’t care if he tap-dances. They used to live in the Castro, DeDe … and now they’re living with his boyfriend … or is it hers?”
    “Binky says it’s both of theirs.”
    “No! Do you think? Of course, they never take him anywhere … and he’s even got a side entrance, so his address is different….”
    “Mother, I need to talk to you.”
    “Viola says they even have different zip