CATHY COCKRIN AND
THE LARRY LEFFERTS BAND
They play for keeps and they play real hard.
She's got the voice of a marauder and a body to
suit the armor. Me sitting here just listening seems
like a useless endeavor. I really should be doing
something else. There's a chef in the back, named
Etienne. He mills about like all those cranky food
guys do - pickling his garlic and squeezing cheese
through his little French fingers. More, more.
-
Five years ago, I'd been through all this already -
was married to that rich kid, the girl with the
wonderful face. All her money kept me comfy at
night. When I rolled over, it was onto her. When
she rolled over, it was an IRA - or something
beseeching like that. We were rich in our overdraft.
-
Her parents had been millionaires once in Hong Kong.
Not that that's much, really, but when they came here,
to the USA, they had stolen five times as much - and
brought it with them. As we were, as we were, so to
say, 'sworn' to secrecy, no authorities ever found out.
Payday was everyday in such a Mandalay. Now she's
gone, and I'm listening to a padded band in a well-heeled
house with the money I - in turn - stole from her. Ha!
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