“The University of Miami Student Union,” Eddie said solemnly.
We all laughed.
“Come on, Eddie,” Hank said. “Play the game. This is a serious question.”
“When a man really needs a piece of ass,” I said, “any place he tries is hard.”
“That’s right,” Eddie said. “When you’ve got a woman waiting for you in the sack, and you stop off for a beer, there’ll be five or six broads all over you. But when you’re really out there digging, desperate, there’s nothing out there, man. Nothing.”
“That’s why I keep my small black book,” Hank said.
“We aren’t talking about friends, Hank,” I said. “We’re supposed to be talking about strange pussy.”
“That’s right. So where’s the hardest place to pick up strange?”
“At church — on a Sunday,” Eddie said.
“How long’s it been since you’ve been to church?” Hank asked. “Hell, at church, the minister’ll even introduce you to a nice girl if you point one out to him.”
“But who wants a nice girl?” Eddie said.
“I do,” Hank said. “In my book, a nice girl is one who guides it in.”
“If that’s true,” I said, “every girl I’ve ever slept with has been a nice girl. Thanks, Hank, for making my day. Why don’t we give up this stupid game, get something to eat, and go down to the White Shark and play some pool?”
“Wait a minute,” Eddie said, “I’m still interested in the question. I want to know the answer so I can avoid going there and wasting my time.”
“A determined man,” Don said, “can pick up a woman anywhere, even at the International Airport. And you can rent rooms by the hour at the Airport Hotel.”
“It isn’t the airport,” Hank said. “As you say, Don, the airport’s not a bad place for pick-ups. A lot of women, usually in pairs, hang around the Roof Lounge watching the planes take off”
“Well I give up, Hank,” I said. “I’ve had my two martinis, and if I don’t eat something pretty soon, I’m liable to drink another. And on my third martini I’ve been known to hit my best friend — just to see him fall.”
“Eighty-six the Fuzz,” Eddie said. “Tell us, Hank.” Eddie poured the last drink into his Dixie cup.
“Drive-in movies,” Hank said.
“I don’t get it,” Don said. “What’s so hard about picking up a woman at a drive-in, for Christ’s sake? Guys take women to drive-ins all the time—”
“That’s right,” Hank said. “They take them there, and they pay their way in. So what’re you going to do? Start talking to some woman while she’s in her boyfriend’s car, while he’s got one arm around her neck and his left hand on her snatch?”
Eddie laughed. “Yeah! Don’t do it, Don. The guy might have a gun in his glove compartment.”
“I guess I wasn’t thinking,” Don said.
I thought about the idea for a moment. “I’ve only been to a drive-in by myself two or three times in my whole life,” I said. “It’s a place you don’t go alone, usually, unless you want to catch a flick you’ve missed. The last time I went alone was to see Two-Lane Blacktop. I read the script when it came out in Esquire, and I really wanted to see the movie.”
“I saw that,” Eddie said. “Except for Warren Oates in the GTO, none of the other people in the movie could act.”
“That isn’t the point, Eddie,” I said. “I didn’t think the movie was so hot either, although the script was good. The point I’m trying to make is that the only reason I went to the drive-in alone was to see Two-Lane Blacktop, and it didn’t come on until 1:05 a.m. Where’re you going to find anyone to go to the drive-in with you at one in the morning? And when I didn’t like the movie either, I wanted to kick myself in the ass.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been to a drive-in alone,” Don said. “Not that I remember, anyway.”
“Well, I have,” Hank said, “just like Larry. Some movies only play drive-ins, and if you don’t catch them there you’ll miss them altogether.”
“I’ve been a few times, I guess,” Eddie said, “and you’ll always see a few guys sitting alone in their cars. But I’ve never seen a woman alone in a car at a drive-in, unless her boyfriend was getting something at the snack bar.”
“Let me tick it off,” Hank said. “First, if a woman’s there, she’s either with her parents, her husband, or her boyfriend. Second, no woman ever goes to a drive-in alone. They’re afraid to, for some reason, even though a drive-in movie’s safer than anyplace I know for a woman alone. Because, third, a man would be stupid to look for a broad at a drive-in when there’re a thousand better places to pick one up.”
“That’s the toughest place, all right,” I said. “It’s impossible to pick up a woman at a drive-in.”
Hank laughed. “No, it isn’t impossible, Larry. It’s hard, but it’s not impossible.”
“I say it’s impossible,” I repeated.
“Better than that,” Eddie said, “I’m willing to bet ten bucks it’s impossible.”
Hank, shaking his head, laughed. “Ten isn’t enough.”
“Add another ten from me,” I said.
“I’ll make it thirty,” Don said.
“You guys aren’t serious,” Hank said.
“If you don’t think thirty bucks is serious enough,” Eddie said, “I’ll raise my ten to twenty.”
“Add another ten,” I said.
“And mine,” Don said.
“Sixty dollars is fairly serious money,” Hank said. “That’s twice as much dough as I’d win from you guys shooting pool at the White Shark.”
“Bullshit,” Eddie said. “We’ve offered to bet you sixty hard ones that you can’t pick up a broad at the drive-in. And we pick the drive-in.”
“You guys really love me, don’t you?” Hank said, getting to his feet and rotating his meaty shoulders.
“Sure, we love you, Hank,” I said. “We’re trying to add to your income. But you don’t have to take the bet. All you have to do is agree with us that it’s impossible, that’s all.”
“What’s my time limit, Eddie?” Hank said.
“An hour, let’s say,” Eddie said.
“An hour? Movies last at least an hour and a half,” Hank said. “And I’ll need some intermission time as well to talk to women at the snack bar. How about making it three hours?”
“How about two?” I said.
“Two hours is plenty,” Don said. “You wouldn’t hang around any other place in Miami for more’n two hours if you couldn’t pick up a broad.”
“Let’s compromise,” Hank said. “An hour and a half, so long as I get at least ten minutes intermission time. If the movie happens to run long, then I get more time to take advantage of the intermission, but two hours’ll be the outside limit. Okay?”
“It’s okay with me,” I said.
“Then let’s make the bet a little more interesting,” Hank said. “For every five minutes under an hour, you add five bucks to the bet, and I’ll match it.”
Hank’s self-confidence was irritating, but I considered it as unwarranted overconfidence. We took him up on his addition to the bet, and we agreed to meet in Hank’s apartment in a half hour.
We all had identical one-bedroom apartments, but we furnished them so differently none of them looked the same. I don’t have much furniture, but the stuff I’ve got is unique. On Saturday nights I often get the early Sunday edition of the Miami Herald and look for furniture bargains in the Personals. That’s how I got my harpsichord. It was worth at least $850, but I paid only $150 for it. I can pluck out “Birmingham Jail,” but I plan to take lessons if a harpsichord teacher ever moves to Miami. I’m not in any hurry to complete the furnishings; I’m willing to wait until I get the things I want to keep.