Tropical Depression by Laurence Shames Read Free Book Online

still taking classes at Fashion Institute—"
    Irv shuffled the cards. "Same game. Same winner."
    Murray swigged his cocktail and kept talking. "The owner of the company was an alte cocker, gloomy. He thought it was all over, the brassiere was going the way of the muu-muu, the poodle skirt. My wife, Franny her name was, still is, said, 'Murray, buy the bra division. Make a lowball offer, you'll get it on the cheap.'"
    "Queen is high," said Irv.
    "A quarter on the queen," said Bert the Shirt. "So ya bought the company?"
    "Not right away," said Murray. "Any more daiquiris inna pitcher? I waffled. I was scared. I'd have to borrow, maybe I'd lose everything. I said to Franny, 'What makes you so sure the bra is ever coming back?'"
    Barney LaRue looked at his hole cards. "And a quarter," he said. He leaned over and grudgingly freshened Murray's drink.
    "She says to me," the newcomer went on, '"lemme put it this way, Murray: You wanna go through life with your little pecker hanging down and flopping all day long? You wanna spend each day vaguely feeling that people are looking at you sideways, checking out the size of it, the shape? No. Politics is politics,' she says, 'but comfort and modesty will win out. The bra is coming back.' So I borrow half a million bucks and buy the bra division. These cocktails are delicious. How ya make these cocktails?"
    "I'm raising," the ex-proctologist announced.
    Irv frowned down at his cards and turned them over.
    "An' sure enough the bra came back," said Bert.
    "With a vengeance," Murray said. "The eighties. What a moment! Dress for success. The executive look. It called for a whole new line. Tits are a science. Lotta people don't realize this. Woman executive goes into a meeting with the board of directors, she can't go in looking like she's gonna take somebody's eye out with her tits. They need a softer look. Not too soft. Too soft, they don't look successful, they look, like, pessimistic. The idea is not to make her flat-chested but not to make her boobies an agenda item either. Jesus Christ, did we move product in the eighties! Whose turn is it to bet?"
    "Yours," Irv said dryly.
    "I'm in," said Murray. Tossed a quarter.
    "Bet's seventy-five cents," said Irv.
    Murray glanced at his hole cards. They blurred a little but he could tell they didn't match. "I'm out."
    "Guy gambles in bras," Doc muttered. "Cards, he wants a sure thing."
    "Don't gamble in bras no more," said Bert. "Retired, like I said. Fifty cents ta me. I call."
    "Retirement's not so easy," put in Irv, and for an instant Murray wasn't sure if someone had spoken or if his own new fears were murmuring to him. "Don't kid yourself it's easy," the natty fellow said.
    "One false move I get depressed," said Murray.
    "Plenty a guys," said Bert, "I seen 'em like fall into whaddyacallit, I guess ya'd have to say despair. Yeah, despair. Lose the edge. Get old overnight. But hey, this is gettin' fuckin' morbid."
    Barney LaRue said, "There's one more raise, I b'lieve?" He waited to see the reaction, then said, "Well, I'll just call."
    Irv dealt.
    Bert paired up his queen. He stroked his dozing dog for luck, rubbed his pockets with the aces on them. "Queens say half a buck. Hey Bahney, the casino bill—"
    "Dead in the water," said the senator.
    Doc said, "The controversy."
    "You got it," drawled LaRue. "My colleagues up in Tallahassee, they like controversy about as much as dead tourists piled up on Cuban rafts. I'll take a high diamond, Mr. Irv."
    Irv turned over a four of clubs. He said, "So I guess that leaves us bingo with the Indians."
    "They'll open up casinos soon, " the politician said. "But Indians, that's federal. State can't do a thing about it."
    "An' why should it'" put in Bert the Shirt. "Poor fuckin' Indians. First time they find a way ta make some money, the state starts cryin' the blues about it. Where's the justice? Half a dollar onna queens."
    "Fold," the politician said. "Tain't about justice, Bert. It's about revenues. Thank