Slapped by a composer, queried by a pianist, charmed by a novelist, etc., part 3

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Ginny and I, not yet married, used to have coffee on weekday mornings at the tiny Chock-Full-of-Nuts store on the corner across the street from the Greenwich Village branch of NYU, where we were both taking classes toward our BA's. (That particular building, incidentally, now called the Brown Building, was, on March 25, 1911, simply referred to as the Triangle, cite of the infamous Triangle shirtwaist factory fire, worst in New York's history, resulting in the deaths of 140, mostly young women, by asphyxiation, burns, multiple injuries). One winter morning, for whatever reason I can't now remember, as we both sat at the tiny counter, I launched into a discourse on Suzy Parker, then the hottest model in the City. There'd been an article on her in the most recent Esquire Magazine, and I was still full of her.

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