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legs, but too much pride to get into a thing with the first man who came along with the equipment to extinguish it. The eternal longing in their eyes was for someman to make a positive effort to seduce them, so that they could momentarily imagine themselves in love and discredit the evil thought that their actions were only the timeless, rhythmic movements of a woman in heat, a woman being destroyed from within because her physical needs fought the constant battle with her mind to control the countless caresses that she eventually would succumb to and the many orgasms that she desired.
    Smoky would sometimes forget that we were supposed to be working. We would be joined in the small dining area by two women, and he would nudge me in the side as though my own eyes were failing me.
    ‘look, man! two birds come in lookin’ for a play, les play.’
    ‘What about Zinari?’ I would ask.
    ‘zinari got miz zinari an’ any else he want, i wan’ some too.’
    Anything that would resemble a difference of opinion on my part would never be considered. He would always call the women as though he knew them and invite them to join us. If they balked, he would go over and sit with them, assuring them that we weren’t drunk and that our only desire was for a little freshness to decorate our table, a little female company.
    I must admit that Smoky was generally a winner. He was an ideal man to double-date with. Whereas I was a bit picky, he would rap to the girl that I paid least attention to.
    ‘nuthin’ but some leg,’ he would say.
    He would always bill us as clerks in the real-estate business. This is a business with a future. With determination and a few breaks, there were tremendous advances to be made by Negroes. This was all a part of Smoky’s initial approach. He explained it to me very simply one night.
    ‘wimmin in harlem jus’ like whi’ wimmin. they movin’ becuz uv two things, firs’ thing iz the body, mos’ a them out that time a night cauz they can’ sleep, they cain’ sleep cauz they wan’ a man. the secon’ thing iz that they alwaze thinkin’ ‘bout tomorroweven if t’night iz mo’ important, they ezier an’ mo’ quick to the sack if they think the cat iz ejucated an’ got a l’il money, they know they takin’ a chance they never see ‘im agin, but they need a l’il romance an’ all that shit they read ‘bout in the movie magazines, they wanna be wined an’ dined, but a cupa coffee an’ a charmin’ rap will do jus’ as good.’
    I saw the whole point. We all used each other. The women used us for sex, and we used them the same way. A double cross with no winner, because all the participants were aware of the swindle.
    I was injecting my third quarter into Tommy’s jukebox when John came in. His huge bulk obliterated a customer’s view of the steam that rose from the smoldering concrete. I waved and indicated the booth I was parking in. He returned the wave and plopped, mopping sweat from his fat cheeks.
    ‘Whuss been happnin’, man?’ I asked, sitting opposite him.
    ‘You know how it iz, man. Same old same o.’
    ‘Yeah, but I think this heat is some new shit.’
    ‘That motherfuckuh is fryin’ brains.’
    James Brown came on doing ‘Cold Sweat,’ and John and I grinned. The smiles were forced, and I thought about that. It was odd that we would be forcing grins for each other. Things were changing, I had to admit. John was into his dope thing, and I was into mine. I looked back at him with renewed interest. The youth was gone, and he looked like an old man, freshness erased by some unknown blackboard cleaner. It was a new day for John Lee. There had always been a smile on his lips and a chuckle rolling over his vocal cords, ready to be exposed with only the slightest provocation. The daytime was gone from his eyes. All that remained was the night. He was dressed in a good Italian knit shirt, double-breasted, and silk pants. He was the corner fashion post. The blue jeans and