"Paul Di Filippo - The Publishing House Always Wins" - читать интересную книгу автора (Di Filippo Paul)

be brushing shoulders with some major players....тАЭ

Jeanie finished taking off her stage makeup. тАЬWell, you never know
whoтАЩs gonna show up at an offbeat joint like this. I heard somebody spotted
Joyce Carol Oates on the floor last weekend. She dropped ten large at the
craps table.тАЭ

Adjusting the fit of my strapless bra, I thought about JeanieтАЩs
comments, and felt a little better. You never could tell who youтАЩd meet in
this life. Maybe tonight would bring me luck.

Little did I know then how right I was.

I exited the dressing room and made my way past the noisy flashing
slot machines with their motifs from a bunch of weird stories I had never
heard of before coming to work here. тАЬA Canticle for Leibowitz.тАЭ
тАЬHothouse.тАЭ тАЬThat Hellbound Train.тАЭ (Now that one was really appropriate to
this place and my mood.) тАЬA Rose for Ecclesiastes.тАЭ (They mustтАЩve been
aiming for the Bible Belt crowd with that one.) тАЬThe Deathbird.тАЭ (Another
cheerful motif.) And so on and so on, with all the slot zombies shoving bills
into the machines and pushing buttons like they were earning overtime at
some misery factory, their faces lit up in Technicolor by the glowing
screens like that astronautтАЩs helmet in 2001.

I made my way across the broad busy floor to the Boucher Room bar,
picked up a tray with a few of the more popular miscellaneous mixed drinks
already on it, and began to circulate. I got the nod from various security
guys I was friendly with. They were all dressed up like тАЬStarship TroopersтАЭ
and тАЬTime PatrolтАЭ officers, so there was no secret about who they were.
But this was the kind of rough and tumble house where discretion was less
important than a visible show of force.

The next couple of hours, nothing out of the ordinary happened. I
decided to visit the poker tables in the McComas Room.

I zeroed in right away on one particular game.
 A big Texan sat behind an enormous pile of chips. He looked like
something out of a Fritz Leiber story, tall and thin. (Okay, I been doing a
little outside reading since I took this job. The stuffтАЩs kinda addictive.) He
was sweating and grinning, smoking a big stogie. When he spotted me he
bellowed out, тАЬHowdy, little miss! LetтАЩs have another one of those тАШFlowers
for AlgernonsтАЩ over here, pronto!тАЭ

Luckily I had one of the tall frosty drinks on my tray. I set it down on
the table in front of him and recited the drinkтАЩs motto: тАЬEvery sip makes you
smarter!тАЭ

He extinguished his cigar in an old glass, winked at me, then swilled a
big draft of his new drink. тАЬSure thingтАФuntil you crash!тАЭ