46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B
Darling, a lot seemed to happen today. But before I launch into my composition, I’ll tell you I love you and I count the days everyday until I see you again. In fact, I count the days several times a day. (It’s now 9 days, you know.)
She bought material for some dresses. I bought the fabric for my cape. People will turn to look when I come along in my big checks. Have you ever seen a checkerboard horse blanket? Well, that’s what I have – in blue and white! I don’t care what people think – I like it. We already cut out the pattern tonight. It was loads of fun.
We had some difficulty getting back. First we got on a train without looking to see if it was going up or downtown. Next thing we knew we were in
Brooklyn. So we got off and hopped on an uptown train. It was fine until we woke up some time later to find ourselves on Fifth Avenue, well on our way to Queens. So we got off and backtracked again. It was 7:15 when we left the store, and 8:15 when we stepped off the subway at 81st Street.
When we got back here there was a notice for me to call an Ingersoll number. I did, and found I was talking to Bruno’s old girlfriend Mary. She’s still going out with that guy in
Brooklyn. Shirl and I are planning to meet Jane on Monday afternoon and probably go and see her apartment, too. If you see Singer, tell him I apologize. He was right: Jane really is working as an assistant secretary on Wall Street.
I asked Jane Hastings if she would be interested in the dance at St. George. I told her that Joe Cerullo was thinking about going and he might ask her if he ever got around to it. She said she’d love to go and told me to try to get you to prod Joe a little. I’m sorry, darling. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Do I talk too much? Sometimes I don’t think before I talk. Well, I hope I didn’t do anything drastically wrong. This is the end of the page and the end my night, too, dear. Keep writing. I love you very much, and when someone tempts you for a date Saturday night, don’t you dare go!!!
All my love,
(Tomorrow – a dent in the fender.)
© 2011 Lee Price