Suicide Squeeze

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Horace Folger didn’t have time for bullshit. He couldn’t take the evening off from the hardware store for just anything. But for his son, Teddy, Horace would make the time. He put his thick hand on Teddy’s shoulder, drew him close. He didn’t want to lose his son in the big crowd that had gathered to watch the movie people.

But those movie people didn’t seem to know their ass from a hole in the ground. The director guy kept yelling “cut” and everybody would stop what they were doing, then they’d go back and he’d yell “action” and everyone would do the exact same shit over again. The director seemed bothered by the big crowd, which was mostly men.

They all wanted to see the blonde.

And Jesus Christ what a blonde. She kept standing over this subway grille, then there’d be this whoosh of air, blowing her white dress up, and everyone got an eyeful. Whenever that dress went up, Horace’s knees turned watery. I’d never, ever cheat on Mildred, but if that blonde ever came knocking on my door late one night…

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