Our weekly round of golf was cancelled due to the weather. It looked as though the floating bookshop would be as well when I left the house just after eleven. The sky was overcast. As I walked toward Avenue Z, I spotted a small patch of blue. I decided to give it a shot, hoping the system had a gap in it. It was the right move. No sooner had I set up than lovely young Alisa came walking my way. I don't see her too often these days, as she has moved to Park Slope. I assume she has found a man smart enough to take her in. I haven't asked, afraid the answer is yes. Unfortunately, she was in a hurry, as her sister was scheduled to fly to Hungary. She is of Russian decent, tall, beautiful and intelligent, a graduate of Stuyvesant High School, arguably the best in NYC. I kissed her cheek and gave her a hug. She was wearing a tank top from which her huge hooters were perilously close to escaping. I looked away from her fabulous cleavage as I felt a charge surge through me. The physical rush is rare in me these days. I suppose the mental will survive as long as my wits hold out. She said she had begun writing and that someone had stolen her work. It seemed so odd I didn't know what to say. Fortunately, I remembered to ask if she were on Facebook and if she'd mind if I sent her a friend request. She welcomed it. She has 741 friends. I have about 265. I find myself foolishly fantasizing about her. I'm 40 years older than her, for God's sake, but desire is merciless. I wonder if she doesn't realize the divide is that wide. Even so, a 30 or even 20 year difference is ridiculous. I'll let her lead. With all those friends, no doubt many of them male, she doesn't lack for companionship. Maybe she is simply looking for a mentor, a platonic relationship. What torture that would be. I'll leave it up to her.
I thank the kind folks who purchased books today before the rain returned. As I was hurriedly packing up, a young woman holding an open umbrella told me she loved novels and said she would return tomorrow. Herbie, one of my regulars, bought The Adventurers, the only Harold Robbins novel he hasn't read. He said the film version (1969) has one distinction, an Olivia DeHavilland nude scene. I was shocked and wondered if time was playing tricks on his memory, if he'd confused it with something else, so I ran a search on it. One reviewer called it the closest thing to a nude scene she'd ever done. DeHavilland was 50 at the time. Born in 1916, she is the only surviving cast member of Gone with the Wind (1939).
Visit Vic’s sites:
Vic’s Third Novel (Print or Kindle): http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic’s Website: http://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic’s Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic’s 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic’s 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic’s Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3f
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