[...] A few nights ago a friend asked, Where are the women. We cruised by the place we thought they were. It was dead. We cruised by a couple other bars. By the way, cruising means slowing down and looking in the door or at the people on the sidewalk. I don't even know what we want to see. What would make us stop and go in.
I think my buddy would like to see a bar three-quarters full with a male/female ratio of twenty/eighty. Me, I'd like the bar to be near empty. With Emma Bowlcut sitting by herself, smoothing out an empty straw sleeve.
We could make an evening of things. (letter 33)
