by poo-yie on Sat Jun 09, 2007 4:43 pm
Mr. B.,
I'm not sure if it is a typo, but the following sentence reads a bit strange to me. It's from "Johnny Ace", the Esquire version.
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"What's with you two?" Eddy Ray said, one hand on the wheel, a deck of Lucky Strikes wrapped in the sleeve of his T-shirt.
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Ain't that s'posed to be "pack"?
I'm sure you wrote "pack"; but, Blind Breaux, the typesetter, must've sneezed or something when setting up the galleys and put his "deck" in there instead.
It must've slipped by Vicky, the proof editor, somehow.
It's just another one of those hazards of smoking.
She was no doubt totally focused on those cigarettes rolled up in the sleeve of Eddie Ray's white t-shirt, kinda Jet Rink style - know what I mean? And she was wondering if they were regular or filter-tip, and if it was a soft pack or the box type. She could already feel the breeze blowing through her hair and taste that gourmet "bite" on the tip of her tongue from the "fine tobacco" (LS/MFT = "Lucky Strike Means Fine Tobacco") [http://www.archive.org/details/LuckyStr1948_2] as she proof-read the manuscript, not focusing on the words anymore, but totally engrossed in that vivid scene playing in her mind's eye - and those cigarettes.
Why, she could just picture herself on the plush grey front seat of that '49 Hudson, sitting there next to Eddie Ray, watching him open up that cigarette pack one-handed, pulling the little red cellophane opening strip around the top with his gold-capped nicotine-stained teeth, separating the foil and tapping the pack against the back of his left hand to coax the first of those coffin nails out far enough for him to lovingly grab it with his wind-parched lips and then snap open his zippo, light up and take the first drag on that little white cylinder, all without letting go of the steering wheel or taking his eyes off the road.
She smiled as Eddie Ray then tapped a second cigarette out of the pack and held it out so she could grab it with her lips, freshly painted with bright red Wet'n Wild lipstick that she bought in a upscale pharmacy on Broadway in Manhattan. Eddie Ray then reached over with his right hand and lit her Lucky Strike cigarette with the brushed chrome zippo lighter with the US Navy Emblem on it that he won from a member of the CC Riders Motorcycle Gang in a poker game down in Corpus Christi. As she slowly inhaled the smoke from that LS/MFT fine tobacco, her eyes fixed on Eddie Ray's.
Just then, Chito, the copy boy, knocked on her office door and said "Miss Vicky, I hope ain't botherin' you; but it's after 5, and they sent me up to ask if you got any comments about that manuscript."
Untimely jolted from her daydream, like one of the final scenes of a "Back to the Future" movie, she replied "Oh! Yes. It's fine. It's really fine."
So, all things considered, I guess it's understandable that Vicky would've missed seeing that word, being as how it was so close to that pack of Lucky Strikes.
Best,
poo-yie
