Feb. 7, 1962
SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS. We’d been there a little over a week now, and Barry and I, were no longer exhausted, unbathed, cold, and very nearly broke. The fact was, we found a two- story home to rent in the very old part of town. We were now bathed and rested. The floor heater was rattling through the grates. We took turns straddling it, so we were no longer cold. Also, we were no longer nearly broke. In fact, with the first month’s rent now out of my wallet and tucked, instead, into the landlady’s apron pocket along with a promissory note that the last month’s rent and a cleaning deposit would also be transferred to her apron pocket in one week (with the arrival of my California Unemployment Check) … we were very, very broke.
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