Besides, the little woman took it, right along with my clothes, when she took up with that biker last fall. Just last night I met one of em at a stop this side of Denver hauling machine parts and bragging about doing eighty on the wrong side of the highway without his running lights. I shifted my dinner to a booth and hoped I wasn't seen. But they's out there, same as politicians, waiting to catch you with your boxers on the floor of some cathouse. They's punks today that'd see you coyote chewed rather than radio a cop.
People is people kid, that's all they is.
I ain't seen nobody look like you since I laid over in Ohio with Bob and that quart of Cuban rum. Yes, I thought, as I jumped down to the pavement and turned my leather boots and wild ideas back into my own, lit up one of Earl's pinched cigars, and stuck out the other thumb. Yes you have.