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Black Coffee but no shower

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  The room was a bust.  After kissing her and getting slapped, emptying a bottle a gin and an old bitty not leaving us alone, we left the boarding house room, got back into the car sat until sober'ish and the rain turned to fog, and the time said dwan but the sky said anywhere but here. Down the road a light was on at a diner, and we pulled in.  I was still drunk enough but not drunk enough not to know it.  She was easy.  unbothered by wet socks or unwilling to acknowledge it.  Her coat pulled tight as I wish ai were, about her, her gloved had and her ciggarette, all the armor she needed.  indefatigable, above it all even me. "Listen" i start. "This Beach Cottage better be better than that flop house, or you will absolutely get no attention from me this weekend".
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Sing, Sing, Sing

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  The old bulb light comes on in the  pontiac  as she opens the door and drops into the seat, sliding around a bit as you do with nice clothes on good old leather.  The rain  menaces and then she manages the long door shut and she sits up drops down her visor (lights come on automatically) and she checks her lips,  and eyes, then flips it up, s i ts back as much as someone with good posture can sit back in a  pontiac  and looks  over  a t me then then back  in front of her at the marble gray the rain has made of the windshield.   I just keep l ooking  at her.     she  sighs.   “ and ?” I say with emphasis on the  Well ,  what the fuck happened  in there ?   She shakes her head quickly side to side in a no/ nevermind  and makes a noise both ‘ugh’ and ‘no’ simultaneously and sits  up again like rocking forward will make the car move, like  i  am not driving, like th...
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