Tales of the City 02 - More Tales of the City

she can be trusted completely…. Yes, sir…. Of course, sir…. No, that’s not short notice at all….I’ll take the usual precautions….Fine, sir…. Goodbye and thank you very much.”
    The old woman hung up the phone, curiously subdued. The gentility she had mustered for the conversation left Mona somewhat stunned.
    “Charlene,” said Mother Mucca.
    “Yeah?”
    “Get rid o’ the other johns tonight.”
    “Huh?”
    “You heard me. Get rid of ‘em. Call ‘em up or reschedule ‘em or somethin’, but get rid of ‘em.”
    “Was that …?”
    Mother Mucca nodded. “He’s flyin’ in from Sacramento.”
    Charlene whistled softly. “Which girl did he ask for?”
    “He didn’t.”
    “Huh?”
    “He wants a new one.”

Cravings
    U NDER WAY AGAIN, THE PACIFIC PRINCESS STEAMED south toward Manzanillo, washed in the light of a full moon. Shortly after eight o’clock Mary Ann emerged from her bath and anointed her body with turtle lotion.
    In less than an hour she would be having her first real date with Burke.
    “Am I getting brown yet, Mouse?”
    “What? Oh, yeah … fine.”
    “Whatcha reading?”
    “Holy shit!”
    “It must be good.”
    He whistled in disbelief, still hunched over his book. Mary Ann grew impatient. “Mouse … show me!”
    Michael held up the paperback. It was entitled Cruise Ships—The Inside Story. “I bought this damn thing down in the gift shop. I mean, they were actually pushing it!”
    He read to her: “ ‘There are two categories of aggressive women among cruise passengers. There are those who are after the medals and those who just like tramping around.’ ”
    “That’s the most sexist thing I’ve ever—”
    “ ‘The former like to aim at officers. The latter like nothing better than to disappear into crew quarters and spend the rest of the voyage in a variety of arms.’”
    “Well, variety is the— ”
    “Wait. Here comes the good part: ‘Occasionally, wealthy and lonely male homosexuals—’”
    “You’re making that up!”
    “Listen, will you? ‘Occasionally, wealthy and lonely male homosexuals will appear on a cruise, attempting to buy the favor of crew members. It is an easy task.’ ”
    “Let me see that!”
    He held the book so she could see it and continued to read.
    “ ‘A generous tip will carry the request to a willing crew member. Sometime later, the cabin phone will ring and a deal will be struck.’ ”
    “Leave it to you to find that.”
    “Well, don’t get snotty, just because you’ve found Mr. Right already.”
    Like a long-married couple, they sensed a pun together and spoke it in unison. “All right, already!”
    She tried on three blouses, unable to settle on the best complement for her beige slacks.
    “Stick with the blue,” said Michael. “That orange thing makes you look like Ann-Margret.”
    “Maybe I want to look like Ann-Margret.”
    Michael sighed laboriously. “All right. If you seriously think that nice Nantucket boy is hot for the kitten-with-a-whip type, go right ahead and—”
    Mary Ann threw off the blouse and scowled at him. “You’re worse than Debbie Nelson!”
    “Thank you. Who’s Debbie Nelson?”
    “My freshman roommate.”
    “The blue is very wholesome.”
    “Screw wholesome.”
    Michael pretended to be aghast. “Wash your mouth out, young lady!” He buttoned up the blue blouse. “There. Look at yourself. Isn’t that better?”
    “My mother hired you, didn’t she? You’re a plant.”
    “A pansy, to be specific.”
    “Look, don’t you think that cream blouse might—”
    Michael ignored her. “Blow,” he ordered.
    “What?”
    “Blow in my face. You had two slices of garlic bread tonight.”
    “Mouse! I am perfectly capable—”
    “Strong men have turned queer over two slices of garlic bread!”
    She blew.
    Leaving the stateroom, she turned and winked at him. “Don’t wait up for me, Babycakes!”
    He stuck his tongue out at her.
    “Thank you, Mouse. I love you.”
    “Save the schmaltz for Thunder Thighs.”
    “What are you gonna do?”
    “Right now it’s a tossup between shuffleboard and self-abuse.”
    She laughed. “There’s a Cole Porter revue in the Carrousel—”
    “Will you get outa here!”
    He read for an hour, then wandered out onto the Promenade Deck, where he leaned on the rail, watching the ocean. Up here, away from the white vinyl shoes and harlequin glasses, it was easier to visualize the kind of sea cruise that inhabited his dreams: Noel Coward