‘This is your idea. You’re the one who want to do this.’ Mimi smiled as she thought about it. Finally, she said, ‘Okay, if you win, I’ll let...you fuck me. And if I win, you owe me $500.’ I laughed. ‘$500, huh, what’s the finish line?’ ‘The finish line is at One Hundred and Twenty-Second Street, where the park is.’ ‘Let’s go!’ I agreed. When the light turned green, we immediately began speeding. Thankfully, the streets were still clear with no sign of cops. Mimi was in the lead, and I knew she. The Blanche Christmas party, though, is not a stuffy get-together of up-turned noses. I had the time of my life. The food was delectable, the guests always observed old-fashioned Southern gentiality, and the entertainment was top-notch! In times of tacky and unsophisticated fads, Mason Blanche entertained his guests with performers of the best taste and quality. Blues singers, pianists, and Jazz bands were lined up for the opportunity. There was an element to his parties that disturbed me,. More

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