The Studs Lonigan Trilogy - James T. Farrell [321]
He sat back, feeling that warm sun on his arms and face, contented again. Nice.
IV
The Greek restaurant at Sixty-third and Stony Island Avenue with the imitation marble counter and the modernistic gray and dull red furnishings was crowded with high-school kids, and as Studs entered he heard an uproar of talk, giggling girls at the booths and tables, a clatter of dishes, and, above it, a male chorus on a radio singing snappily:
My wife is on a diet,
And since she’s on a diet,
Home isn’t home any more.
No gravy and potatoes,
Just lettuce and tomatoes,
Where are the pies I adore?
Oh, oh, oh, oh. What a disgrace,
I’m ashamed to look a grapefruit straight in the face.
The stout Greek behind the counter, hearing the song, wobbled to the radio and twisted the dial, bringing forth a saccharine torch-singing love-song.
Studs, smiling at the incident and thinking that it was a good song for Catherine to hear, took a seat at the counter. On his left, he noticed a young khaki-shirted workingman, soaking up the gravy on his plate with a slice of bread, and on his other side, a tall marcelled blond lad, with a long face, who wore a blue sweater with a large white P on the front. Park High athlete, he thought. He watched a dumpy waitress pass and ‘hoped his order would be taken soon because he didn’t like it with all these crazy high-school kids around. “Have you ever dated Irene Knisley, Jack?” the athlete asked the black-haired, baby-faced lad beside him.
“No, but she can be my big moment any time she wants.”
“She’s a big moment who will heat you plenty. I dropped up to the Park Community Center dance last Friday, and she was there. You ought to dance with her.”
“Tompkins took her out and he says she’s plenty strong on the lovin’. He’s certain he can make her.”
Studs thought that they were just drying the milk behind their ears. He toyed with his knife and fork, and thought about how hungry he was.
“Hey,. Katie,” the baby-faced high-school student called out at the clumpy waitress.
“What?”
“How’d you like to be my big moment?”
“Come around on Sunday. I have kindergarten then,” she flung back.
Studs smiled. He followed her with his eye as she moved to the slot opening back to the kitchen and shoved a pile of used dishes into it. He gulped down the glass of water and saw, as she turned, that she was no chicken, and her breasts almost fell down to her belly. Not worth the making. How did broads like her feel, because they had so little to offer a guy? They must know they look like hell and that a guy would have to be pretty hard up before he tried to play around with them. In fact, they must, in doffing themselves up to be made, have a hell of a lot of nerve and think a lot of what they had. And from the looks of her tough face, crusted with powder, she didn’t look decent, but the type that would go with anything in pants.
You’ve got me pickin’ petals off o’ daisies,
Some say yes, some say no .. .
Still, some guys went for dumb broads like her, and would be glad to get her. At times, he might himself, because a guy got that way.
“What’ll you have?” she asked in a strident voice.
“Roast beef and mashed potatoes.”
“My pater’s sobbing the blues, too, about dough. He’s cut down on my allowance, but the mater slips me something and doesn’t snitch to him,” the athlete said.
“My dad’s swell, a real pal. He always says to me, ‘Jack, I had my fun when I was your age and I don’t want my kid to be an angel.’ He doesn’t want me to kill myself studying, either.”
“My pater’s a babbitt.”
The plate of food, soaked with greasy gravy, was set before Studs. He dumped catsup beside the meat, and commenced eating rapidly. His mouth jammed, he thought that these kids didn’t know how lucky they were, having a good time and a chance to get an education in high school, and they ought to make the best of their chance. An education didn’t hurt you.
“I tried to date Daisy Dell for the Alpha dance, and she was oh, so sorry. So I said to her, `Say, don’t cry, baby, you’re not Clara Bow.’ She hung up on me,” the baby-faced lad said, and the athlete laughed.