Charles Bukowski - South of No North: Stories of the buried life

Stories of the Buried Life

for Ann Menebroker

Edna was walking down the street with her bag of groceries when she passed the automobile. There was a sign in the side window:

WOMAN WANTED .

She stopped. There was a large piece of cardboard in the window with some material pasted on it. Most of it was typewritten. Edna couldnt read it from where she stood on the sidewalk. She could only see the large letters:

WOMAN WANTED .

It was an expensive new car. Edna stepped forward on the grass to read the typewritten portion:

Man age 49. Divorced. Wants to meet woman for marriage. Should be 35 to 44. Like television and motion pictures. Good food. I am a cost accountant, reliably employed. Money in bank. I like women to be on the fat side.

Edna was 37 and on the fat side. There was a phone number. There were also three photos of the gentleman in search of a woman. He looked quite staid in a suit and necktie. Also he looked dull and a little cruel. And made of wood, thought Edna, made of wood.

Edna walked off, smiling a bit. She also had a feeling of repulsion. By the time she reached her apartment she had forgotten about him. It was some hours later, sitting in the bathtub, that she thought about him again and this time she thought how truly lonely he must be to do such a thing:

WOMAN WANTED .

She thought of him coming home, finding the gas and phone bills in the mailbox, undressing, taking a bath, the T.V. on. Then the evening paper. Then into the kitchen to cook. Standing there in his shorts, staring down at the frying pan. Taking his food and walking to a table, eating it. Drinking his coffee. Then more T.V. And maybe a lonely can of beer before bed. There were millions of men like that all over America.

Edna got out of the tub, toweled, dressed and left her apartment. The car was still there. She took down the mans name, Joe Lighthill, and the phone number. She read the typewritten section again. Motion pictures. What an odd term to use. People said movies now. Woman Wanted . The sign was very bold. He was original there.

When Edna got home she had three cups of coffee before dialing the number. The phone rang four times. Hello? he answered.

Mr. Lighthill?

Yes?

I saw your ad. Your ad on the car.

Oh, yes.

My names Edna.

How you doing, Edna?

Oh, Im all right. Its been so hot. This weathers too much.

Yes, it makes it difficult to live.

Well, Mr. Lighthill

Just call me Joe.

Well, Joe, hahaha, I feel like a fool. You know what Im calling about?

You saw my sign?

I mean, hahaha, whats wrong with you? Cant you get a woman?

I guess not, Edna. Tell me, where are they?

Women?

Yes.

Oh, everywhere, you know.

Where? Tell me. Where?

Well, church, you know. There are women in church.

I dont like church.

Oh.

Listen, why dont you come over, Edna?

You mean over there?

Yes. I have a nice place. We can have a drink, talk. No pressure.

Its late.

Its not that late. Listen you saw my sign. You must be interested.

Well

Youre scared, thats all. Youre just scared.

No, Im not scared.

Then come on over, Edna.

Well

Come on.

All right. Ill see you in fifteen minutes.

It was on the top floor of a modern apartment complex. Apt. 17. The swimming pool below threw back the lights. Edna knocked. The door opened and there was Mr. Lighthill. Balding in front; hawknosed with the nostril hairs sticking out; the shirt open at the neck.

Come on in, Edna

She walked in and the door closed behind her. She had on her blue knit dress. She was stockingless, in sandals, and smoking a cigarette.

Sit down. Ill get you a drink.

It was a nice place. Everything in blue and green and very clean. She heard Mr. Lighthill humming as he mixed the drinks, hmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmmmmHe seemed relaxed and it helped her.

Mr. LighthillJoecame out with the drinks. He handed Edna hers and then sat in a chair across the room from her.

Yes, he said, its been hot, hot as hell. Ive got air-conditioning, though.

I noticed. Its very nice.

Drink your drink.

Oh, yes.

Edna had a sip. It was a good drink, a bit strong but it tasted nice. She watched Joe tilt his head as he drank. He appeared to have heavy wrinkles around his neck. And his pants were much too loose. They appeared sizes too large. It gave his legs a funny look.

Thats a nice dress, Edna.

You like it?

Oh yes. Youre plump too. It fits you snug, real snug.

Edna didnt say anything. Neither did Joe. They just sat looking at each other and sipping their drinks.

Why doesnt he talk? thought Edna. Its up to him to talk. There is something wooden about him. She finished her drink.

Let me get you another, said Joe.

No, I really should be going.

Oh, come on, he said, let me get you another drink. We need something to loosen us up.

All right, but after this one, Im going.

Joe went into the kitchen with the glasses. He wasnt humming anymore. He came out, handed Edna her drink and sat back down in his chair across the room from her. This drink was stronger.

You know, he said, I do well on the sex quizzes.

Edna sipped at her drink and didnt answer.

How do you do on the sex quizzes? Joe asked.

Ive never taken any.

You should, you know, so youll find out who you are and what you are.

Do you think those things are valid? Ive seen them in the newspaper. I havent taken them but Ive seen them, said Edna.

Of course theyre valid.

Maybe Im no good at sex, said Edna, maybe thats why Im alone. She took a long drink from her glass.

Each of us is, finally, alone, said Joe.

What do you mean?

I mean, no matter how well its going sexually or love-wise or both, the day arrives when its over.

Thats sad, said Edna.

Of course. So the day arrives when its over. Either there is a split or the whole thing resolves into a truce: two people living together without feeling anything. I believe that being alone is better.

Did you divorce your wife, Joe?

No, she divorced me.

What went wrong?

Sexual orgies.

Sexual orgies?

You know, a sexual orgy is the loneliest place in the world. Those orgiesI felt a sense of desperationthose cocks sliding in and outexcuse me

Its all right.

Those cocks sliding in and out, legs locked, fingers working, mouths, everybody clutching and sweating and determined to do itsomehow.

I dont know much about those things, Joe, Edna said.

I believe that without love, sex is nothing. Things can only be meaningful when some feeling exists between the participants.

You mean people have to like each other?

It helps.

Suppose they get tired of each other? Suppose they have to stay together? Economics? Children? All that?

Orgies wont do it.

What does it?

Well, I dont know. Maybe the swap.

The swap?

You know, when two couples know each other quite well and switch partners. Feelings, at least, have a chance. For example, say Ive always liked Mikes wife. Ive liked her for months. Ive watched her walk across the room. I like her movements. Her movements have made me curious. I wonder, you know, what goes with those movements. Ive seen her angry, Ive seen her drunk, Ive seen her sober. And then, the swap. Youre in the bedroom with her, at last youre knowing her. Theres a chance for something real. Of course, Mike has your wife in the other room. Good luck, Mike, you think, and I hope youre as good a lover as I am.