Dateline Pittsburgh: 19 February 2017
What a lovely day it was in Pittsburgh with a high around 66 yes 66 and plenty of sunshine so you know I had to stroll down to Schenley Plaza which was full of people sitting under the Pavillion and at the tables on the walk way and sitting outside the only sit-down restaurant The Porch and just everybody enjoying the freaky weather with most of the people probably Pitt students working at their laptops and eating and talking and studying and it was so refreshing to be out and about in the Spring-like weather and to see all those people so I crossed Forbes Avenue to the Cathedral of Learning and I stood for a moment reflecting on the plaque on the ground in front of the fountain at the entrance to the Cathedral that said:
Cradle Of Our Destiny
Crucible Of Our Deeds
Cathedral Of Our Dreams
And then I strolled into the Cathedral and The Commons was full of students at tables writing and studying and reading with plenty of laptops everywhere and a wave of nostalgia swept over me and I strolled back out into the warm sunshine singing songs by The Doors under my breath and I felt like a young man again…
Dateline Pittsburgh: 20 February 2017
In nine days I will be back on my regular beat in Little Italy and after I pick up some food supplies at the supermarket a few blocks from Armand’s I’ll retrace my steps back to Armand’s to settle myself on a bar stool for my first beer of the March 2017 campaign and I’ll wait for some regulars to come in as I watch the television at my end of the bar which is a real treat for me since I don’t have a television (I found I get more blogging, reading and writing done) so that the only time I watch television is in a bar…
The White Whale Bookstore is across the street from Armand’s and sometime next week I’ll pick up a paperback book that I ordered from the store to add to my personal library and it will come as no surprise to the regular readers of this blog that the book is about The Doors and its title is No One Here Gets Out Alive by Jerry Hopkins which I actually read many years ago but now I want to re-read it and the re-reading of the book fits in nicely with my efforts to impersonate Jim Morrison which I will try once again to do at Sonny’s Tavern in Little Italy the first Sunday night of March 2017.
I’m continuing my education on Henry Miller which is exposing me to a style of writing fiction that is closer to my style of blogging which is a sort of stream of consciousness internal monologue that’s also a good description of the novel Tropic of Capricorn by Miller that I’m reading now along with several other books by Miller and this is what The New York Times Book Review had to say about Tropic of Capricorn:
“A superb entertainment that brings in jeremiads, casual lyrics, and sudden reaches toward the spiritual core of life…”
I’ve noticed that for the most part Henry Miller and Jack Kerouac do not emphasize dialogue in their fiction for both writers seem more concerned with the flow of consciousness and experience than they are concerned with revealing character for dialogue is an excellent tool for revealing character; also they write novels of saturation to get down the flow of consciousness and experience while I like saturation for my blog posts but not my fiction which I try to style as best I can after Hemingway…
Many retired Americans on very limited budgets and who live alone must find ways to interact with other people. I’m fortunate to have blogging, karaoke and Armand’s.
As a writer of erotic flash fiction I’m not as interested in capturing the flow of consciousness and experience as much as I’m interested in revealing character during a significant event that may last only an hour or so.
A good example of my emphasis on dialogue to reveal character is an old story of mine from the 1980s that I’d forgotten about and I came across a couple of days ago doing a little early Spring cleaning and that I published in The Gazette on the 19th of this month and which I re-publish below…In the version of Frank And Rita that is republished below I added two lines of dialogue that were not in the original. The lines are:
“Are you on any birth control, Rita?”
Frank And Rita
The letter Frank Everett got the day before from the State Civil Service Commission stated that only 13 people in the County of Allegheny had scored higher than he had on the Civil Service test. That meant he’d probably have a good job within the year. Once he got the job nobody could say he was a loser, a loser like his old man. How his mother stayed with his father who got drunk and would beat her Frank could never understand. His mother and father were of a different generation. Frank was still in his twenties; but he’d never gone to college and found he could only get dead-end jobs like the one he had now. Well, all that was going to change. He’d even brought the letter to work to show it to Rita. Rita Lopez was the only thing he would miss from his present job. Frank started putting down the chairs on the dry floor. Rita would be in any minute now.
With everything in place Frank sat on a stool at the bar and smoked a cigarette. It was the best part of the day. Soon he wouldn’t have to work at night. He wouldn’t be on Public Assistance. When Rita came in he could always get a couple of beers on the house before the bar opened. Today he was hoping Rita would give him more than a couple of beers. Rita might be forty-five but she was hot. She made her tips on low-cut short dresses that got even lower when she bent down to get a beer for a customer and tips on her beautiful legs.
Rita came through the swinging doors. She was wearing her trade mark short, low-cut dress, black pantyhose with white tennis shoes. “I put on the show,” she told him once. “But I’m not going to have my feet hurt.”
“Frankie, the place is so nice and clean. Would you like a beer? I’ll have a cigarette with you.”
She put her shoulder purse away behind the bar and bent down into the cooler to get him a 16oz bottle of Duquesne. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She had never had babies. She had good breasts. She looked up at him and saw him looking.
“My Frankie gets his own private show.”
She opened the bottle and put it and a glass in front of him.
“I got something to show you, ” he said.
“I got the letter.” He put his cigarette in the black-plastic ashtray.
“Let me see.”
She came around and sat facing him on the bar stool next to him. He took the letter from the pocket of his jeans and gave it to her. She unfolded the letter and began to read it.
Concentrating on the letter she crossed her right leg over her left leg, the short hemline riding even higher. The black pantyhose accented the beauty of her legs. Frank thought of how young women didn’t seem to wear pantyhose any longer. He wondered what would happen if he reached out and put a hand on her exposed thigh. He turned to face her.
“Frankie, this is wonderful news.” She looked up at him. She was happy for him. “I’m going to miss my Frankie.”
“I won’t miss this place but I’ll miss you.”
“You’ll forget all about me.”
“No,” he said. “I really will miss you.”
“That’s so sweet.”
He reached out with his right hand and squeezed her pantyhose covered right thigh. There was a moment without movement. There was only the thrill of the feel of her pantyhose and the warmth of her thigh. Then Frankie felt a stinging sensation. The entire left side of his face was on fire. She had slapped him.
“Frankie, I’m so sorry.”
“No, no. That’s all right.”
“You caught me by surprise.”
“I stepped out of line.”
“You don’t want to make a pass at me, Frankie. You’ll leave here and meet some nice young girl and forget all about Rita. Frankie, I’m old enough to be your mother.”
He strangely began to feel more confident. He thought the slap had given him a certain advantage.
“You were right to slap me. But you’re not my mother. And I’m a man and you’re a woman.”
He put his right hand back on her pantyhose covered right thigh. She looked down at his hand. He saw her begin to take deeper breaths. He got off his stool and uncrossed her legs. She was looking down at his hands as if she was hypnotized. He reached under her dress and ran his hands along her outer thighs to her buttocks. The feel of her pantyhose gave him an aching hard-on.
“Frankie, what are you doing?”
Then with his right hand he reached between her legs all the way up to the crotch of her pantyhose and she jumped. She placed her hands on his shoulders and kept looking down at his hands under her dress.
“Frankie, this isn’t right.”
“Are you on any birth control, Rita?”
Moments later Rita was on her back in a booth with the hem of her dress up around her waist and her white tennis shoes, black panties and black pantyhose on the floor. Frankie’s briefs and jeans were on the floor and he was straddling Rita’s chest. He was thrusting his throbbing hard-on in and out of her mouth, her head bobbing to meet him, her eyes open and wild. Then he got off her chest and eased down between her thighs and slowly he slid his hard-on inside her pussy.
“That’s what I want,” she moaned. “That’s what I need…”
“This is good…”
“You like it?…”
“It’s so good…”
“Careful I don’t fall in love with you…”
“Rita, this is so good…It’s so good…”
“You like it?…”
“Rita, I love it…It’s so good…So good…So good…”
“Oh, I need a man…I need a man…”
“Are you going to cum, Rita?…”
“I need a man…It’s been too long…It’s been much too long…A woman can only deny herself for so long…”
“Frankie, you make me cum…”
“Are you cumming?…”
“Yes, I’m cumming…cumming…Frankie, I’m cumming…Oh it’s been so long…So long…So long…So long…”
“Yes,” she said. “Yes. I want it…I want it…Every drop…Every drop…Give me every drop…”
That day after work Frank Everett and Rita Lopez began to make plans.
This is Guy Hogan reporting for the Pittsburgh Flash Fiction Gazette. All photos used for this blog post were sampled from Egotastic All Stars. Let me encourage you to make my little “girlie” magazine your go-to site for Naked News videos. Scan down the sidebar to Categories and the link to all the Naked News videos is at the very top!
Hail to Pitt!