You need to stop working. Indian xxx He always drives the car with one hand and makes the gearshift go into place, manipulating it with his knees. They don’t know where we are tonight, so let’s stay here under the stars and make out.”
I am so shocked I can’t speak. (He’s too young to smoke but he would live into his eighties anyway, so what did we know back then about the dangers of smoking?)
“I don’t know, Bub,” I answer. And he felt pregnant women should stay at home and not be seen. (There was no such thing as being politically correct.) We didn’t listen; we preferred Walter Winchell, Jack Benny, and “The First Nighter” hurrying to his seat in the little radio theater off Times Square. My first cousin. Now I know. But nothing ever thrilled me like that one night under the stars. X and I start kissing and he really knows how—slow, sweet, and tender.
