Betting on the Muse

by Charles Bukowski

  “Why the fuck do they make stupid wrenches like that? Why is everybody so fucking stupid?”

  “Come on, let’s try a phone booth.”

  They started to cross Sepulveda when an old car with four young guys waving beer cans drove by and let out a yell. So Diana hadn’t imagined it after all. Harry only hoped that they would come back so he could bang their heads together. But they didn’t. It wasn’t Harry’s lucky night.

  Harry got the Auto Club on the phone. He had Diana’s card in his hand. He gave the lady the location of the car, the problem and the Auto Club identification number.

  “Is the lady there?” Harry was asked.

  “She’s here but I’m phoning for her.”

  “I can hear her,” said the Auto Club lady. “Would you mind putting her on the phone?”

  Diana had been cursing and offering instructions from the background.

  “Is that necessary?” Harry asked the Auto Club operator.

  “Yes, I wish to speak to the lady…”

  Harry handed the phone to Diana, thinking, oh shit, they’ll never come now. We’re finished.

  “He told you where we were! How many fucking times do we have to tell you? No, I don’t know the number! There aren’t any street numbers! It’s a deserted area! Where am I now? I’m outside a Thrifty drugstore in a phone booth! No, I don’t know the number of the Thrifty drugstore! Your driver can find it! Thrifty Drugs! No, I’m not going to stay here! It’s too cold! I’m going to wait in the car!”

  Diana let go of the receiver and it dangled from the cord. Harry picked up the receiver in order to pacify the Auto Club. The line was dead.

  “That cunt!” Diana screamed.

  “Come on,” Harry said, “let’s go back to the car.”

  They crossed Sepulveda and Harry put Diana in the car. She was still ranting about the Auto Club. Harry walked out to the curb and lit a cigarette, waiting, somehow, for an Auto Club tow truck which might never arrive. All the dispatcher had to do was to take offense and not put in the call. Harry hoped the lady had a good soul. As for Harry, he’d give anything to be sitting in front of his tv with a beer, watching a replay of “The Honeymooners.” If only a man could pack off to some city in Canada and never be seen or heard from again. But it was never that easy. You were destroyed by what you befriended.

  Harry lit another cigarette and walked up and down. Then came a great surprise! An Auto Club tow truck came rolling along! Harry jumped and waved. The guy saw him and pulled up. Such a beautiful sight. If there was proof of God it was the arrival of an Auto Club truck in the middle of the night.

  The man got out of the truck and approached the Alfa Romeo. Diana leaped out.

  “We couldn’t get the wheels off with this stupid wrench! Why do they make stupid wrenches like this?”

  The man didn’t answer. Then he said, “You’ve got two flat tires.”

  “Oh,” Diana said, “I hadn’t noticed. When I hit that fucking traffic island I felt the tire blow. I didn’t know it was two.”

  Ah, Christ, Harry thought, this nightmare is endless.

  “Well, I don’t know what I can do,” said the Auto Club man.

  “Just go ahead and put on the spare,” said Harry. “Maybe I’ll think of something. Better one flat than two.”

  Then Diana couldn’t find her car keys. There was more major hysteria. Then she found the keys—in her purse.

  The Auto Club man found the spare in the trunk, brought it out, said, “There’s no air in this spare. Somebody has let it go down.”

  The man brought out an air tank and inflated the spare. The spare went down again.

  “This spare is flat,” said the man.

  For once, Diana was silent.

  Three flat tires.

  “Well, shit,” Harry laughed, “let’s just blow up the fucking car and leave it here.”

  “No, wait,” said the Auto Club man, turning to Diana.

  “You live near here?”

  “Yes, about a mile.”

  “Well, I can tow your car to your place and leave it there.”

  “Can you do that?” said Diana. “That would be just fine.”

  More endless nightmare upon endless nightmare, thought Harry, no, no, no, no.

  “No,” said Harry, thinking, “there’s a tire place about 4 or 5 blocks from here. Let’s just haul the car down there and we’ll fix it in the morning.”

  “That’s O.K. with me,” said the Auto Club man. “I know where that place is.”

  “Shit,” said Harry, “let’s do it.” He and Diana climbed into the tow truck.

  The Auto Club man towed the car to the tire shop and then he left. The Alfa Romeo with its flat tires was parked directly in front of the building.

  “Now,” Harry said, “we can leave one note on the windshield under the wiper and we’ll leave another note under the office door. Then they can’t miss it.”

  “What’ll I write?” Diana asked.

  “Tell them you need tires. That we’ll be back in the morning. Leave your phone number and mine.”

  Diana got some sheets of paper out of her car and laid them on the hood of the Alfa Romeo and began writing. She wrote for a long time. Then she handed the sheets to Harry. Each sheet was 18 or 20 lines long. Harry had no idea what she had written. He took one sheet and placed it under the wiper and then walked to the office door with the other sheet.

  “What are you doing?” Diana screamed. “Put it in the mail slot!”

  “No,” said Harry, and he slid it under the door, face up, so they would see it. Every edge against possible misunderstanding was needed.

  Harry got Diana back to her place. He told her that in the morning he’d be back, he’d get her some new tires, and then everything would be all right.

  When he got back to his place it was 4:35 a.m. Not too late. He uncorked a bottle of good wine and had a large glassful. Then he had another. It went down well and it was needed. It was cowardly, of course, to attempt to forget the incomprehensible, but nevertheless it was necessary.

  In the morning Harry phoned the tire shop and told them he’d be over to purchase tires for the Alpha Romeo. “Fine,” said the man, “we got your letters.”

  Harry got to Diana’s about ten a.m.

  As he approached her open doorway she must have heard him coming.

  “Oh my God! My God! I can’t stand it! I want to die!”

  He walked in.

  “What is it, Diana?”

  “I can’t leave this place like this!”

  “What is it?”

  “Can’t you see? There’s piss and shit all over the floor! The toilet backed up!”

  “Well, we’ll clean it up.”

  “The toilet’s stopped up and I don’t have a plunger! And I’ve got nothing to clean the floor with! I can’t leave!”

  This is Saturday, thought Harry, if I don’t get her car fixed it’ll be there until Monday and there will be further complications.

  “I’ll get you some stuff,” said Harry.

  “Where are you going? Where are you going?”

  “I’ll be right back,” said Harry.

  Where the hell can I buy some towels? he thought as he drove along.

  He saw a large department store, parked, got out. The doors were just opening. He walked in with the customers who had been waiting.

  Harry found the towel department. He grabbed three of the largest towels and put them on his VISA card. He had a hangover.

  He asked the lady where he could get a plunger.

  “Hardware,” she said. “Two aisles to the left and one down…”

  Harry walked around to the Hardware section. There were no plungers on display. There were no clerks in the Hardware section. He went over to Automotive where the clerk saw him coming, turned his back and walked off. He cornered the clerk at the dead end of an aisle.

  “Listen, don’t they have a clerk in the Hardware section?”

  “I don’t think so.” />
  “Don’t they have any plungers in this store?”

  “They should be in Hardware.”

  “There’s nothing there.”

  “They must be on order.”

  Harry left the store and drove around some more. Then he saw Thrifty Drugs. He parked and went in. It was a hot morning and the hangover made him sweat excessively. He saw some plungers. But it was madness. They were tiny. They only cost a dollar. Maybe I can make it do until I find another, he thought. He purchased the little plunger and went back to Diana’s.

  “Here,” he said, “some towels and a plunger.”

  “Oh, Jesus Christ, I can’t use that plunger! Oh, I feel like dying!”

  Then she screamed. When she finished Harry said, “I’ll be right back.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  “Oh, all this mess! What will I do?”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Harry jumped into his car and drove off again. He saw a home appliance store, parked, went in. He found a plunger! A beautiful black plunger! He paid cash and took it back to the car.

  Back at Diana’s he said, “Here’s a real plunger! Look!”

  Diana grabbed it.

  “Wait, I’ll do it,” suggested Harry.

  But Diana already had the plunger and she was working at the toilet. She sobbed as the water splashed about. She stopped to flush the toilet, then worked the plunger again. The dark water rose to the edge of the toilet and Harry thought, oh, my God. Then, at the last moment, the water whirled down and away. The toilet was clear.

  “There,” he said, “we’ve solved that.”

  “I can’t go!” Diana screamed. “I can’t clean this floor! I don’t know what to do! What will I do?”

  “You’ve got the towels.”

  “I can’t use those beautiful towels on the floor!”

  “What do you need?”

  “Paper towels!”

  “I’ll be right back…”

  Harry jumped into his car and went back to Thrifty Drugs. He found the paper towels. He got several different types of paper towels. Then he went back to Diana’s. What can she say now? he thought.

  “I can’t clean the floor, oh God, I can’t clean the floor!”

  “Why, what’s wrong?”

  “I don’t have any soap! How can you clean the floor without soap?”

  “I thought maybe you had some soap.”

  “I don’t have any soap!”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  The hangover seemed to be getting worse. He jumped into the car, lit a cigarette, gagged. Then he drove back to Thrifty Drugs. He got three different brands of soap. The same girl was at the cash register, but she didn’t recognize him. Or maybe she did and thought he was mad.

  Then he was back at Diana’s with the soap.

  “I’m going to get a newspaper,” he told her.

  He jumped back into his car, went back to Thrifty Drugs and got a newspaper out of the rack in front. Then he returned. He sat in a chair outside and read the newspaper. His mouth was very dry and he was ill to the stomach. He read the front section, the feature section, the sports section.

  Then he heard Diana. “As soon as I shower we’ll go.”

  “O.K.” he said…

  The Alfa Romeo sat there with its flat tires and Harry went to the office to get things moving. There would be 3 new tires needed and put the most worn tire in the trunk for the spare, thank you.

  The clerk seemed very understanding.

  “Come back in an hour and your car will be ready.”

  They walked down to the Sizzler and they got the Hibachi chicken, the Double-Hibachi chicken. Diana also had a salad and an iced tea. Harry had a coffee. The place was crowded.

  “Eat slowly,” said Harry, “we’ve got an hour.”

  Somehow they managed to kill an hour. Harry drank much more coffee than he felt like drinking. He felt as if he was going to puke.

  They walked back to the tire shop. The car stood there, untouched, still on its flat tires.

  Harry went back to the nice clerk.

  “They haven’t touched the car,” Harry told him.

  “They haven’t?”

  The clerk left the counter and shouted through the door, “HEY, EDDIE, BRING THAT ALFA UP HERE, WILL YOU?”

  The clerk turned to Harry, “Sorry sir, we’ll get right on it!”

  “Let’s wait in my car,” Harry suggested to Diana.

  They walked to the car and sat and waited. Still, nobody moved the Alfa. There were various men about in their white uniforms. Some drank coffee. Others stood and smoked, talking to each other. Another was on the telephone.

  Then from out of nowhere came a fat man in his white uniform. He got into the Alfa Romeo and started the motor.

  “What’s he going to do?” Diana screamed.

  “He’s going to move your car over to the rack,” said Harry.

  “He can’t drive it like that! He can’t drive it on those tires. He’ll ruin the rims! Tell him to stop!”

  “It’s just a short distance. The rims will hold up.”

  The fat man slowly drove the car toward the rack.

  “He’s ruining my car! Make him stop!”

  Harry put his head down and stared at the floorboard. He didn’t want to stop him.

  When he looked up the car was parked near the rack. He saw the fat man get out and walk off. The fat man was gone for 5 minutes. When he came back he had a sandwich in one hand and a large Coke in the other. He walked past the Alfa and out a side door and was gone. Harry started to open the door to go back to see the clerk in the office.

  “Don’t bother them, they might resent it,” said Diana.

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  They sat there. In another ten minutes a thin man appeared. He rolled up 3 new tires.

  “Tell him not to use the electric lug wrench to put the tires on,” said Diana.

  Harry walked over and told the thin man that.

  “O.K.” said the man.

  Harry walked back to the car. The thin man changed one wheel, then walked off.

  Oh my God, thought Harry. This is most surely the day I am being tested, to see if I am ready for the other world.

  Then the thin man was back smoking a very long cigarette.

  “Hey, Monty,” he yelled to somebody, “what are you doing tonight?”

  “We’re double-dating,” came the answer from somewhere. “We’re going to Orion’s. Do you know where Orion’s is?”

  “Sure, I know where Orion’s is!”

  Then, suddenly, music came out over the loudspeakers. It was loud, quite loud. A woman was singing, only you couldn’t make out the words. The music stayed on. The song ended and a man began singing. Harry really felt like puking.

  Twenty minutes of song. Then the thin man yelled at them over the music.

  “O.K., IT’S READY!”

  This is it, thought Harry, victory at last! We have endured. We have come through. We have surmounted all.

  Harry walked into the office and paid the bill. He felt great. He joked with the clerk. He loved the clerk. All men were brothers. The world was fine. He was free.

  He walked back to Diana.

  “Well, you’ve got a new car. 3 new tires. And you’ve got a new paint job from last week and a new top from the week before. Your car looks great.”

  Diana got into her car and started it up.

  “Thanks,” she said, “and I’m sorry for everything. Things have been so fucked-up lately.”

  “Forget it. Everything’s straight now. Happy driving. I’ll phone you later. I’m going home to sleep for a couple of hours.”

  “Thanks again…”

  “O.K., kid, see you later.”

  Diana drove off toward the exit. She gave a little wave. Harry waved back.

  Then she stopped at the street exit. She started honking her horn and staring tearfully at him through the d
river’s side window.

  Harry ran up.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m sorry but I can’t drive this car this way!” she said through the window.

  “What is it?”

  “There’s this scraping sound! Listen!” She drove forward a few feet.

  It was true. You could hear it over the music.

  “Back it in again,” Harry told her.

  Harry went to the thin man and explained the scraping sound.

  “Oh, we’ll fix that right up,” he said. “It’s a minor adjustment.”

  The thin man took off the wheel that had been scraping, looked at it, put it back on. No scraping now.

  Diana got in again and drove toward the exit. She waved, he waved. Harry inhaled and waited. The Alfa Romeo pulled into traffic and was gone.

  Harry got back to his place, took a bath and had a beer. He got lucky. There was a good middleweight fight on tv. He was still alive. The late afternoon sun came through the window and bathed him in its glory. Things were coming together. He made an egg sandwich with green peppers. In an hour or so he phoned Diana.

  “Everything all right?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said, “but I’ve been worried about my cat. Those males have been terrorizing her, those sons-of-bitches. But she’s here now. She’s all right.”

  “Great…”

  “Mother just called. She’s coming to visit next week just as planned. And she says to thank you again for letting her stay in your spare bedroom. You have such a lovely home.”

  “It’s all right…”

  “She’s only going to stay 3 days, then she’s going north.”

  “O.K.”

  “I’ve got her arrival time at the airport and all that. You know she’s getting along in years. Last week she broke a bone in her foot coming down a stairway. She might be in a wheelchair.”

  “We’ll take care of her,” said Harry.

  “I want to get some blinds for her bedroom. You can see right in there from the street, that’s not right.”

  “O.K.”

  “And thanks again.”

  “Forget it.”

  They said goodbye for the time being. Harry went and got another beer, then went outside and sat on the steps and smoked a cigarette. It was getting dark. Harry liked it dark. The darker the better. He smoked his cigarette and gulped at his beer. For the first time in 18 or 19 hours he felt pretty good. Pretty damned good. And he allowed himself the full enjoyment of that. He felt he had it coming. Darkness and peace. Ah, ah, ah…