"How you doing?"
"Great, I'm opening a Milk Bar in Beverly Hills. How'd you like to be the doorman?" The ex-lightweight mentioned the numbers. The salary was on par with what I earned selling diamonds for Manny on West 47th Street.
"What's the weather like?" Gray snow covered the sidewalks of the Diamond District and icy slush filled the gutters. The temperature hovered well below freezing. Business was dead this time of year and I calculated that I could double my salary on tips at an LA nightclub.
"Sunny."
"Any rain?" This time of year Pacific monsoons splashed the Santa Monica Mountains and transformed the yellow slopes to gold.
"Sometimes, but not enough to cause any floods."
"We got a place to live?" I had never lived in California.
"A pool house in North Hollywood. My friend Dennis owns it and a go-go club too."
"Go-Go bar?" I had been a big supporter of the exotic arts ever since frequenting Boston's Naked I in 1970 and honestly preferred stripping to ballet.
"Best in LA. Every morning the girls come over to touch up their tan."
"Naked?"
