Style, you
either have it or you
don't. And if you have it, you have it
all the time.The Rogue Meets His Match
by Tux Toledo
Page 4
“James, I believe the best way to locate Irene Atom is to ask a few of the North Beach old-timers.”
“Indeed, sir?” He spoke in a manner that seemed to doubt my approach.
“Yes. There must be someone who knows her whereabouts. Don’t you agree?”
“If
you say so, sir.” His manner was becoming a bit annoying. I
have noticed that there are times when he can be a bit arrogant.
Still, he is a good chauffeur. Worth the difficulty in finding.
I
began my search for Irene Atom that evening. You've got to get up
pretty late in the day if you want to find information in North Beach.
The
streets glistened in the damp aftermath of a brief rain. The
distinctive North Beach aromas had been temporarily suppressed by the
sudden dousing and they now emerged from the pores of the city and rose
like steam from a baked clam. The obvious thing to do was to hit
all the old joints and find someone who still knew Irene. Not
quite like looking for a needle in a haystack, but almost.
James
took me to Enrico's, a slowly fading North Beach icon known for live
jazz and lively ambience. I was hoping to find an old-timer named
Eddie Muncher, a full-time hanger-on who knew more about North Beach
than anybody. In the old days he had owned an obscure, tiny club
called "The Green Apple". Only hard-core locals ever knew of
it. Since then I had kept Eddie supplied with racing tips so he
was always willing to do me a favor. And if anybody knew the
whereabouts of Irene Atom it would be Eddie Muncher.
I settled
myself at an outdoor table, ordered an espresso, and watched the crowds
on their way to Finocchio's next door. In case you don't know,
Finocchio's is a joint specializing in female impersonators. And
it was amazing how many people went there. Mostly out-of-towners
searching for a glimpse of the real San Francisco.
But my
concern wasn't the real San Francisco, it was Sidney Felstein and Irene
Atom. An unlikely sounding couple, I must say. I really
didn't know Sidney all that well but it didn't surprise me that he
would have gotten himself mixed up with a stripper. His taste in
women was always a bit strange. Not quite gubernatorial material,
if you ask me.
© 2008 David Biagini