It was Suzanne in Reception saying I had a visitor. I wasn’t expecting anyone, so I asked her who it was. The answer came back, “A Mister di Angel... is here to see you.”The only di Angelo I knew was my late husband Gianni, who I understood was killed in 1929 in Canada, murdered with his only brother by rival bootleggers. I asked Suzanne to send him up to my office. I got up out of my chair and met him at the doorway. I couldn’t believe it! It was my Gianni, raised as if from the dead.I pulled. I was telling Marcie everything about my past sexual relationships; she was telling me nothing about hers."Has Press dipped his wick in your well yet?" I asked and heard the click at the other end.Damn, why did I say it like that? Where did I ever hear that phrase, 'dipped his wick in your well' anyway?I had to wait over thirty minutes for the phone to ring, but when she called she was laughing. I didn't need to apologize."Oldham, sometimes you can be so fucking crude it makes me want to throw. More

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