Blanche Mandelstam, sweet but beefy, with nervous, pudgy fingers and thick-lensed glasses ('I wanted to be an Olympic swimmer,' she told her doctor, 'but I had some problems with buoyancy'), awakens to her clock radio.
Years ago, Blanche would have been considered pretty, though not later than the Pleistocene epoch. To her husband, Leon, however, she is 'the most beautiful creature in the world, except for Ernest Borgnine.' Blanche and Leon met long ago, at a high-school dance. (She is an excellent dancer, although during the tango she constantly consults a diagram she carries of some feet.) They talked freely and found they enjoyed many things in common. For example, both enjoyed sleeping on bacon bits. Blanche was impressed with the way Leon dressed, for she had never seen anyone wear three hats simultaneously. The couple were married, and it was not long before they had their first and only sexual experience. 'It was totally sublime,' Blanche recalls, 'although I do remember Leon attempting to slash his wrists.'
Blanche told her new husband that although he made a reasonable living as a human guinea pig, she wanted to keep her job in the shoe department of Entwhistle's. Too proud to be supported, Leon reluctantly agreed, but insistted that when she reached the age of ninety-five she must retire. Now the couple sat down to breakfast. For him, it was juice, toast, and coffee. For Blanche, the usual-a glass of hot water, a chicken wing, sweet-and-pungent pork, and cannelloni. Then she left for Entwhistle's.
(Note: Blanche should go around singing, the way Cousin Tina does, though not always the Japanese national anthem.)
Carmen (A study in psychopathology based on traits observed in Fred Simdong, his brother Lee, and their cat Sparky):
Carmen Pinchuck, squat and bald, emerged from a steaming shower and removed his shower cap. Although totally without hair, he detested getting his scalp wet. 'Why should I?' he told friends. 'Then my enemies would have the advantage over me.' Someone suggested that this attitude might be considered strange, but he laughed, and then, his eyes tensely darting around the room to see if he was being watched, he kissed some throw pillows. Pinchuck is a nervous man who fishes in his spare time but has not caught anything since 1923. 'I guess it's not in the cards,' he chortles. But when an acquaintance pointed out that he was casting his line into a jar of sweet cream he grew uneasy.
Pinchuck has done many things. He was expelled from high school for moaning in class, and has since worked as a shepherd, psychotherapist, and mime. He is currently employed by the Fish and Wildlife Service, where he is paid to teach Spanish to squirrels. Pinchuck has been described by those who love him as 'a punk, a loner, a psychopath, and apple-cheeked.' 'He likes to sit in his room and talk back to the radio,' one neighbor said. 'He can be very loyal,' another remarked. 'Once when Mrs. Monroe slipped on the ice, he slipped on some ice out of sympathy.' Politically, Pinchuck is, by his own admission, an independent, and in the last Presidential election his write-in vote was for Cesar Romero.
Now, donning his tweed hackie's cap and lifting a box wrapped in brown paper, Pinchuck left his rooming house for the street. Then, realizing he was naked except for his tweed hackie's cap, he returned, dressed, and set out for Entwhistle's. (Note: Remember to go into greater detail about Pinchuck's hostility toward his cap.)
The Meeting (rough):
The doors to the department store opened at ten sharp, and although Monday was generally a slow day, a sale on radioactive tuna fish quickly jammed the basement. An air of imminent apocalypse hung over the shoe department like a wet tarpaulin as Carmen Pinchuck handed his box to Blanche Mandelstam and said, 'I'd like to return these loafers. They're too small.'
'Do you have a sales slip?' Blanche countered, trying to remain poised, although she confessed later that her world had suddenly begun falling apart. ('I can't deal with people since the accident,' she has told friends. Six months ago, while playing tennis, she swallowed one of the balls. Since then her breathing has become irregular.)
'Er, no,' Pinchuck replied nervously. 'I lost it.' (The central problem of his life is that he is always misplacing things. Once he went to sleep and when he awoke his bed was missing.) Now, as customers lined up behind him impatiently, he broke into a cold sweat.
'You'll have to have it O.K.'d by the floor manager,' Blanche said, referring Pinchuck to Mr. Dubinsky, whom she had been having an affair with since Halloween. (Lou Dubinsky, a graduate of the best typing school in Europe, was a genius until alcohol reduced his speed to one word per day and he was forced to go to work in a department store.)
'Have you worn them?' Blanche continued, fighting back tears. The notion of Pinchuck in his loafers was unbearable to her. 'My father used to wear loafers,' she confessed. 'Both on the same foot.'
Pinchuck was writhing now. 'No,' he said. 'Er-I mean yes. I had them on briefly, but only while I took a bath.'
'Why did you buy them if they're too small?' Blanche asked, unaware that she was articulating a quintessential human paradox.
The truth was that Pinchuck had not felt comfortable in the shoes but he could never bring himself to say no to a salesman. 'I want to be
By eleven-ten, the floor manager, Dubinsky, had O.K.'d the exchange, and Pinchuck was given a larger pair of shoes. Pinchuck confessed later that the incident had caused him to experience severe depression and wooziness, which he also attributed to the news of his parrot's wedding.
Shortly after the Entwhistle affair, Carmen Pinchuck quit his job and became a Chinese waiter at the Sung Ching Cantonese Palace. Blanche Mandelstam then suffered a major nervous breakdown and tried to elope with a photograph of Dizzy Dean. (Note: Upon reflection, perhaps it would be best to make Dubinsky a hand puppet.) Late in January, Entwhistle's closed its doors for the last time, and Julie Entwhistle, the owner, took his family, whom he loved very dearly, and moved them into the Bronx Zoo.
(This last sentence should remain intact. It seems very very great. End of Chapter 1 notes.)
The UFO Menace
UFOs are back in the news, and it is high time we took a serious look at this phenomenon. (Actually, the time is ten past eight, so not only are we a few minutes late but I'm hungry.) Up until now, the entire subject of flying saucers has been mostly associated with kooks or oddballs. Frequently, in fact, observers will admit to being a member of both groups. Still, persistent sightings by responsible individuals have caused the Air Force and the scientific community to reexamine a once skeptical attitude, and the sum of two hundred dollars has now been allocated for a comprehensive study of the phenomenon. The question is: Is anything out there? And if so, do they have ray guns?
All UFOs may not prove to be of extraterrestrial origin, but experts do agree that any glowing cigar-shaped aircraft capable of rising straight up at twelve thousand miles per second would require the kind of maintenance and sparkplugs available only on Pluto. If these objects are indeed from another planet, then the civilization that designed them must be millions of years more advanced than our own. Either that or they are very lucky. Professor Leon Speciman postulates a civilization in outer space that is more advanced than ours by approximately fifteen minutes. This, he feels, gives them a great advantage over us, since they needn't rush to get to appointments.
Dr. Brackish Menzies, who works at the Mount Wilson Observatory, or else is under observation at the Mount Wilson Mental Hospital (the letter is not clear), claims that travellers moving at close to
