"Factotum" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bukowski Charles)

6

Monday I was hungover. I shaved off my beard and followed up an ad. I sat across from the editor, a man in shirt sleeves with deep hollows under his eyes. He looked as if he hadn't slept for a week. It was cool and dark in there. It was the composing room of one of the town's two newspapers, the small one. Men sat at desks under reading lamps working at copy.

"Twelve dollars a week," he said.

"All right," I said, "I'll take it."

I worked with a little fat man with an unhealthy looking paunch. He had an old-fashioned pocket watch on a gold chain and he wore a vest, a green sunshade, had thick lips and a meaty dark look to his face. The lines in his face had no interest or character; his face looked as if it had been folded several times and then smoothed out, like a piece of cardboard. He wore square shoes and chewed tobacco, squirting the juice into a spitoon at his feet.

"Mr. Belger," he said of the man who needed the sleep, "has worked hard to put this paper on its feet. He's a good man. We were going bankrupt until he came along."

He looked at me. "They usually give this job to a college boy."

He's a frog, I thought, that's what he is.

"I mean," he said, "this job usually goes to a student. He can study his books while he waits for a call. Are you a student?"

"No."

"This job usually goes to a student."

I walked back to my work room and sat down. The room was filled with rows and rows of metal drawers and in the drawers were zinc engravings that had been used for ads. Many of these engravings were used again and again. There was also lots of type-customer names and logos. The fat man would scream "_Chinaski!_" and I'd go see which ad or what type he wanted. Often I was sent to the competing newspaper to borrow some of their type. They borrowed ours. It was a nice walk and I found a place in a back alley where I could get a glass of beer for a nickel. There weren't many calls from the fat man and the nickel beer place became my hangout. The fat man began to miss me. At first he simply gave me unkind looks. Then one day he asked:

"Where you been?"

"Out getting a beer."

"This is a job for a student."

"I'm not a student."

"I gotta let you go. I need somebody who is right here all the time available."

The fat man took me over to Belger who looked as tired as ever. "This is a job for a student, Mr. Belger. I'm afraid this man doesn't fit in. We need a student."

"All right," said Belger. The fat man padded off.

"What do we owe you?" asked Belger.

"Five days."

"O. K., take this down to payroll."

"Listen, Belger, that old fuck is disgusting."

Belger sighed. "Jesus Christ, don't I know it?"

I went down to payroll.