right off that Wally Wallwallski said he was a junk dealer I knew he really was a junk dealer.

Of course, the minute he left I flew and phoned Jerry. I knew something fabulous must have happened to make him shake loose with a real goodie like Wally. Sure enough, the poor thing had fallen in love. It was a funny thing about Jerry, he always fell in love with men he'd meet at a sewer. I mean, it wasn't anything on purpose. Like he'd be cruising a beach at night and meet somebody that'd melt him into a little greasy spot, then later it'd turn out they'd met right by a sewer. I mean, I don't believe in astrology or things like that, but sure was funny about Jerry in that one particular regard. Anyway, Jerry had met this man, and sure enough it was at a sewer, and of course she was real blabbery and oozy and gushy like when you're in love, so I just thanked him for Wally and got off the phone as quick as I could.

Well, then about once every two weeks Wally would phone and come over. Sometimes it would be early in the evening, sometimes midnight, sometimes two or three or four in the morning and I'd answer the phone and leave the door open and go back to bed and he'd come in and wake me up.

I never once phoned Wally, he always phoned me. Something told me not to. It was just a feeling I had, and it was right.

Little by little I began to learn things about Wally. For instance, he didn't know much gay talk. Once I was talking about this piece of seafood I'd had the night before, and he asks me how I cooked it. And once I was talking about this faggot who was queer for lace curtains, and he asks what color.

Once Wally asked me to go on a junk trip with him. It turned out that most of his time was spent picking up junk in the desert, mostly in deserted mines. As a matter of fact, I later learned Wally was sure no poor man. This desert junk was free for the taking, he said. He just took his pickup out and picked up the junk and brought it back into town and made real good money. Well, I sure was all hot to go, it sounded so mad, us loading junk and then going back in the deserted mine for a wild party. Then he said, do you have boots, and I said what for, and he said for rattlesnakes, those mines are loaded with rattlesnakes. Mary, if there's one thing your old mother is not queer for it's snakes, whether they rattle or not. So I never did get to go on a junk trip with him. And you know, somehow I've always regretted it. Now I wish I'd flown right out and bought some boots.

Then he asked me to go to Las Vegas with him. By that time I'd found out he lived with his mother and really didn't have any friends, and I had been wondering how he passed his time. Well, it turned out that every week he went to Las Vegas and gambled. Every week. He'd get a pile of money and take off for two or three days in Las Vegas.

Well, I was sure surprised when Wally got off on talking about gambling. Up to then he hadn't talked much, then wham, he talked real excited about gambling, and he just kept on talking about it. I mean, he was really interested in it. I couldn't care less and said so, but that made no difference. This system and that system. I mean, it was like it was something close to him, something personal. It was like he felt really close to me now that he was talking gambling to me. I mean, like sex would be personal to most people. It was a funny thing, but when Wally got off on talking gambling I could see that sex wasn't personal to him like gambling was.

Later I remembered an old queen a long time ago had told me Las Vegas was the ungayest city in the country. Take it from me, Agatha, she knew her busi-

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