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Harold
September 1993
By Catherine Kitcho
The phone rang at 9:00 P.M. just as it did every week night except
Friday. Cathy let the answering machine take this one. It was getting
tiresome. She played it back a few minutes later. "Hello, this is
Harold Blumfeld calling. I'd like to know if you're going to drive
tomorrow or if I'm going to drive tomorrow". Cathy dialed Hal back.
"Hi, Hal. I can drive if you want - would you rather?"
"Oh, okay. ....you can drive."
"Why don't we just alternate - one week you drive and the next week
I drive?"
"Well, sometimes I'm on a trip so I'd rather not plan it out that
far ahead."
"I'll pick you up at 7:15."
"Okay."
Cathy was in front of his Bay street apartment at 7:15. He slowly
came downstairs in his rumpled raincoat. Cathy was anxious to get
going.
Hal read excerpts from the newspaper to Cathy while she drove. "I
certainly don't agree with this editor on the trend of socialist
reform....listen to this one..."
"Hal - what's in the Herb Caen column today?"
"Oh, nothing interesting. You wouldn't like it. Now this guy says..."
Hal proceeded to read aloud the most boring uninteresting things
ever in newsprint.
"Hal, can you drive tomorrow?"
"Okay....."
That evening the phone rang at 9:00 P.M. again. Cathy picked it
up. "Hello, this is Harold Tuchfeld calling - do you want to drive
tomorrow?"
"Hal, you said you would drive tomorrow."
"Oh, okay......what time should we leave?" "7:15?"
"How about 7:30?"
"Okay, Hal - see you."
Hal was on time for once. Cathy read the paper to herself while
Hal drove. Hal had a handful of chocolate chip cookies in a crumpled
brown bag between his legs; he ate them as he drove.
"Hal, it's a good thing this is an automatic."
"Yeah. I really dislike shifting. Actually, I really don't like
driving."
"How was last weekend, Hal?"
"Well, I have women problems, I think. My girlfriend in Berkeley
thinks I'm seeing this other girl in Miami..."
"Isn't that where you were last weekend - in Miami?"
"Well, yes, but I just don't understand why she gets so upset. But,
it comes with the territory, I guess."
Hal went back to munching his cookies.
"Hal - if that's your breakfast, what do you eat for lunch?"
"Oh - do you want to go to lunch?"
"No, Hal. I was just making a joke."
At work that morning, Cathy's phone rang at 10 A.M.
"Cathy here."
"Hello, this is Harold Blumfeld calling. Do you want to go to lunch?"
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