The other man puts a nickel in the phonograph, watches the disk slip free and the turntable rise up under it. Bing Crosby’s voice—golden. “Thanks for the memory, of sunburn at the shore—You might have been a headache, but you never were a bore—’’ And the truck driver sings for Mae’s ears, you might have been a haddock but you never was a whore— Mae laughs. Who’s ya frien’, Bill? New on this run, ain’t he? The other puts a nickel in the slot machine, wins four slugs, and puts them back. Walks to the counter.
