I decided a few days later that Rafferty's sense of humor was
Maybe it was the tourists turning up so early this year because of the
good weather- they could breed a bitter irony in you made up of easy
money and bad manners, privilege and your own unquestionable need. One
day I saw a fat man in sunglasses and fishing tackle and drinking
eggnog right out of the carton.
It was pretty sickening.
Then that same day Rafferty tells me this story about some woman over
in Portland who was suing an Italian spaghetti-sauce company for mental
anguish because she opened a can of marinara and found a woman's finger
inside a rubber glove pointing fingernail-up at her.
The next day he had another one.
I I j I 'j. He d read it in the paper.
The body of a night watchman had been found in a hog pen at a
meat-packing firm on the South Side of Chicago. It had been partly
eaten by the hogs. There were hundreds of them in the pen, and the
guy's face and abdomen were in pretty bad shape. But here's the
kicker.
His clothes were hanging neatly on a nearby fence.
Rafferty made some nasty obvious comments about going after pigs in the
dark.
So I thought he was getting strange lately.