Chapter 97

           Igotaletterinthemail.ItwasaddressedfromHollywood.

           DearChinaski:

           I’vejustreadalmostallyourbooks.IworkasatypistinaplaceonCherokeeAve.I’vehungyourpictureintheplacewhereIwork.It’saposterfromoneofyourreadings.Peopleaskme,"Who’sthat?"andIsay,"That’smyboyfriend"andtheysay."MyGod!"

           Igavemybossyourbookofstories,TheBeastwithThreeLegsandhesaidhedidn’tlikeit.Hesaidyoudidn’tknowhowtowrite.Hesaiditwascheapshit.Hegotquiteangryaboutit.

           Anyhow,IlikeyourthingsandI’dliketomeetyou.TheysayI’mprettywellstacked.Caretocheckmeout?

           luv,

           Valencia

           Shelefttwophonenumbers,oneatwork,oneathome.Itwasabout2:30pm.Idialedtheworknumber."Yes?afemaleanswered.

           "IsValenciathere?"

           "ThisisValencia."

           "ThisisChinaski.Igotyourletter."

           "Ithoughtyou’dphone."

           "Youhaveasexyvoice,"Isaid.

           "Youhavetoo,"sheanswered.

           "WhencanIseeyou?"Iasked.

           "Well,I’mnotdoinganythingtonight."

           "O.K.Howabouttonight?"

           "Allright,"shesaid,"I’llseeyouafterwork.YoucanmeetmeatthisbaronCahuengaBoulevard,TheFoxhole.Youknowwhereitis?"

           "Yes."

           "I’llseeyouaroundsixthen..."

           IdroveupandparkedoutsideTheFoxhole.Ilitacigaretteandsatthereawhile.ThenIgotoutandwalkedintothebar.WhichonewasValencia?Istoodthereandnobodysaidanything.Iwalkeduptothebarandorderedadoublevodka-7.ThenIheardmyname,"Henry?"

           Ilookedaroundandtherewasablondealoneinabooth.

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