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Array
(
[sid] => 135260
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Big Al 11
[time] => 2007-06-15 11:46:15
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Miss DuPrey’s house on Lakefront Drive was in an affluent part of town with real estate values in six digit numbers. Jean and I were there at ten o’clock sharp. Her home was French Tudor of brick stone and stucco. There was a double arched entry with sloped roof and copper roof bay window. To the far right was a triple car garage joining the house at a forty-five degree angle. The whole thing reminded me of the French countryside. After a couple of rings of the door bell Miss DuPrey greeted us. She was wearing an old brown stripe apron over a white blouse and black slacks. A smudge of dirt was on her forehead. I guessed she’d been working in the garden. Her smile was warm showing beautiful even white teeth. “Come on in,” she said holding the door wide for us to enter. We stepped into a bare foyer with an encaustic tile floor. We immediately went to the right into a gallery leading to a large room with a fireplace at its far end,. Stairs to the second floor were to the right midway in the room. We stopped by the fireplace where she spoke. “Thanks for coming. I see you’ve brought some catalogues. Good. Maybe we can look at those after I’ve shown you around a little. Would that be okay with you?” “Fine, you lead the way. We’ll follow.” It half an hour of looking and talking about rooms before we came back to sit on the fireplace hearth to look at the catalogues. Jean made penciled notes of things liked and dislikes. When finished, I closed the catalogues saying, “ I’ll give you a complete written estimate of what’s available and their costs within a week. You can come by my office and pick it up.”] “I knew you’d have some good ideas and you certainly did. Contact me at the Colony Club when you’re ready.” “I’ll do that. Anything else we can talk about before we leave?” “ I don’t think so.” She gestured with her hands taking in the whole room and house. “ It looks awfully empty now, but it’ll be a fun project and I think my father would be happy if he could see the end result.” “ I’m sure he would be. But we’ve taken up enough of your time and you’ve other things you probably want to do.” “ Nothing more important than decorating this house. Thanks again for coming and giving me your ideas.” “ I’ll get back to you.” She stood offering me her hand. I shook it taking Jean away as Miss DuPrey showed us out. All in all, it had been an interesting morning. We stopped off at Fluky’s hot dog stand at Maxwell and Halsted Streets for a couple of their best. Entering the lobby of the Jergin’s building, Willy caught my eye motioning for me to come over to his shoe shine stand. “What’s up, Willy?” “There was a guy here asking me about you.” “ What did he look like?” “ He had a brown suit.” “Did he have a hat with a brown band?” “ Yup, he sure did.” “ What did you tell him?” “ I said you had an office up stairs someplace. I didn’t know where your office was.” “ Did you tell him anything else?” “ No, Mister Berger. When he wanted to give me a dollar for more information about you, I told him I knew nothing else.” “ You did the right thing, Willy. Next time I get a shine, you get another porthole.” “ You don’t have to do that, Mister Berger. You and I are good friends. You don’t treat me like dirt.” “You could treat me a little better,” Jean half chided. “” If I did, you wouldn’t like it. Besides auburn hair isn’t my favorite. I like small platinum blonds with plenty of curves. You got it all, baby, and that Miss Gloria DuPrey doesn’t hold a candle to you.” She had no answer for that, just a self satisfied smile. We went up to the office. When we got there I spread the catalogues out on her desk by the telephone. They were the Furniture Dealers Reference Book, 1928, the Hartman Furniture & Carpet Co., Chicago, Il., and the Victorian Furniture Company. “ I want you to telephone these companies and get the information we need. After that, type it out on an invoice sheet with cost. When you done, let me have it.” “ You want that next week, right?” “ Wrong. I want to call Miss DuPrey by Friday and get all this antique business over with. Monday night we’re going to a hockey gave and I don’t want to be thinking about antiques.” “ I don’t like hockey. Take me another club where I can be a flapper again.” “ If things work out right at the game, I’ll take you Benny’s blind pig where there aren’t any small round wooden table, just white table cloth booths with velvet drapes that can be close. If you want to be seen, there’s the dance floor.” Her eyes lit up like blue lights on a pin ball machine. A thought seemed to cross her mind. “ How much are you betting on the game?” “ Now that’s none of you business.” “ Come on, Big Al. Tell me.” “ A few bucks.” “ I don’t think so. How much?” “ Enough to buy you a diamond tennis bracelet if the Blackhawks win.” “ Why don’t you pay me more than a measly fifty bucks a week to work in this crummy office?” “ The fifty a week makes your employment here legit. Haven’t I already bought you a mink coat and clothes at Hudson’s in Detroit?” She smiled, caressing my earlobe with a red fingernail. “ My sugar daddy,” she whispered softly into my ear. “ You’re so good to me. I love diamond tennis bracelets, daddy. You know what, daddy, I’m going to keep my fingers crossed the whole time at the game for good luck.” [comments] => 0 [counter] => 143 [topic] => 21 [informant] => ramfire [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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