“Don’t tell me you never heard of a whore’s bath,” I bluffed.Suddenly I wasn’t being held down by girls anymore. They were both indignant.�...Calm down. I’m not calling you whores,” I said. That would fix things. Right?“You most certainly did just call us whores!” shouted Karla.“I did not,” I said. “I suggested you take a whore’s bath. Anybody can do that, not just a whore.”“I hate that word,” said Sam. “Whore. It just sounds so awful!”The ever-pragmatic Karla had calmed down. She pulled the neck. They were dirty yellow.For the record, there were no officials present. It didn't matter. Theref's had already been gotten-to.The take at the gate was good though. A stampede of noisy, fat peopleelbowed their way through.Drunken.Distracted.Delusional ... well, some of them at least.Nobody noticed. The fans did not even take notice of themselves. Playersand spectators merged into a single throng of fools, ignorant of anythingbut their own selfish tunnel vision. It's the price of free agency.. More

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