Kill Two Birds & Get Stoned Read Free Page B

question," she said, "but what is it you do when you're not busy playing Sir Lancelot coming to the aid of dangerous, deceiving women whom you think are damsels in distress?"
    "That's not a rude question," I said, "just a hard one."
    "Let me see if I can guess the answer. All I really know about you is that you're a good sport, you have a trusting nature, and you're a gentle, kind spirit who wouldn't let a girl celebrate her birthday all by herself. How's that for a start?"
    "I'm starting to like myself already."
    The waiter came to the table with a tray upon which sat six healthy shots of tequila along with a saucer of salt and some slices of lime. The Blue Mill was a fairly quiet, sedate kind of upon observing six drinks being delivered to a party of two. I told the waiter to put the meals and the drinks on one check and to keep the tab open.
    "I forgot to mention 'big spender,'" said Clyde, smiling approvingly. "You sure I can't help you foot the bill?"
    "On your birthday? Not a chance."
    "So you're not an accountant," said Clyde. "You're too easy with your money and you haven't even mentioned the receipt."
    "Right."
    "You're not a doctor or a lawyer or a shrink. You don't dress the part, and besides, you're too loose and easy with your time. I doubt if any of them would have tres tequilas in the middle of a workday. Of course, you never know."
    "No. You're right. I'm none of the above."
    "Let's drink to none of the above," said Clyde, lifting her glass.
    And we did.
    "All right," said Clyde. "I'd like to keep guessing what you're not and maybe what you are. Is the game getting boring?"
    "Nothing about you could ever be boring."
    "Oh, God! Don't tell me you're a professional escort! A gigolo! No, I've got it! A male prostitute! No, that can't be. You wouldn't be picking up the tab."
    "You're right."
    "Besides, you're not that charming. Just kidding. Well, let's see. What's left? You're not a teacher. You couldn't afford the drinks."
    "Right."
    "And speaking of drinks, how about another round? Where the hell's my birthday cake? I knew I shouldn't have trusted Fox. Birthdays can be such a drag anyway and then to have a birthday party and no cake—”
    "This is the best birthday party I've ever been to in my life," I said truthfully.
    "Sure you're not a professional escort?"
    "Well," she said, lifting a second tequila high in the air, "here's to amateurs."
    We drank the second shot of tequila. By this time, I wasn't sure if it was the tequila or simply being with Clyde that was creating the current state of near happiness that I was feeling. I found myself hoping that her friend Fox would be a no-show.
    "You're not self-absorbed enough to be a college professor. Your hands are too soft and clean to be a punch-press operator. You're too sweet to be a cop. Too smart to be a drug dealer. Too innocent to be a reporter. And we know you're not a banker or you never would've let me use your safe-deposit box in the first place and—we wouldn't be here together now."
    "Right on all counts. I'm again none of the above."
    Clyde folded her hands and rested her chin on her fingers. She looked past my eyes into my dreams.
    "What manner of man are you, Sunshine?" she asked, her demeanor suddenly transformed to that of a curious, highly intelligent child.
    She was a woman. She was a con artist. She was a chameleon. And what manner of man was I? That might have been an even harder question. For it's easy to lie to yourself, but it's not so easy to lie to a child. And now, for all the world, she looked at me with the eyes of a child.
    "I'm a writer," I said. "But I don't write. I mean, I used to write but that was years ago. If I was writing now, I'd be writing a novel. I'm a novelist, I suppose. I write fiction."
    "My life is a work of fiction," she said. "I love fiction. It's always so true."
    I looked up and the child was gone. In her place there was a beautiful woman. She was holding a glass and making a toast.
    "Here's to the big new