“Look, you clowns,” the man said. “I know
what sort of douche bags hang out here. It’s a big lesbian scene, right?” He prodded the edge of the big porch swing with his cowboy boot and set the swing to moving oddly. “And what are you
?” he asked Garp. “You the man of the house? Or the court eunuch
Garp handed the man a note.
There’s a nice fire in the wood stove in the kitchen; turn left
But it was August; that was the wrong note.
“What’s this shit?” the man said. And Garp handed him another note, the first one to fly out of his pocket.
Don’t be upset. My mother will be back very soon. There are other women here. Would you like to see them?
your mother!” the man said.”