BUYING OUT RUTH SORKIN
It only took a basket at Balducci's, or a
sit-down at some awkward cafe : two black
coffees, and out came the little bottle of booze.
I guess no one cared, and nothing mattered. How
does one pick up a drunk? Forty years ago, yes,
right over there, was the cutest little French pastry
shop - all sorts of bizarre, fanciful concoctions
put out each day, for purchase and to take home.
Crazy French pastries. I never had any money, so
it didn't matter to me; but now I look back and
realize I should just have known. This was all gay
stuff; a few blocks from The Stonewall Inn, in
fact - I should have realized then who bought
these playful little things - all those quaint
male ingenues I was just getting to know:
dancers and chorus-line guys and theater
people behind the scenes. They swarmed
and made all their money, and spent it
here as well. Torte and eclair,
cream-ball, and little pie.
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