Blunt Darts

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"Name?"

"Cuddy, John Francis."

"Address?"

"74 Charles Street."

"In Boston?"

"In Boston."

"Social Security number?" ·

"040-93-707l."

"Date of birth?"

I told her.

She looked up at me, squeezed out a smile. "You look younger."

"It's a mark of my immaturity," I said. She made a sour face and returned to the form.

"Occupation?"

"Investigator."

"Previous employer?"

"Empire Insurance Company? I wondered whether Empire had to fill out a form that referred to me as "Previous Employee."

"Reason for leaving previous employment?"

"I have a letter." I took the letter from my inside coat pocket and handed it to her. Opening it and reading it slowed her down. I looked around the big, clattering room at the thirty or so other metal desks.

Each had a woman filling out a form and an applicant answering the same questions. Most of the applicants were men. I wondered why we applicants couldn't fill out at least the first few lines by ourselves.

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