Dreams from Bunker Hill
My first collision with fame was hardly memorable. I was a busboy at Marx's Deli. The year was 1934. The place was Third and Hill, Los Angeles. I was twenty-one years old, living in a world bounded on the west by Bunker Hill, on the east by Los Angeles Street, on the south by Pershing Square, and on the north by Civic Center. I was a busboy nonpareil, with great verve and style for the profession, and though I was dreadfully underpaid (one dollar a day plus meals) I attracted considerable attention as I whirled from table to table, balancing a tray on one hand, and eliciting smiles from my customers. I had something else beside a waiter's skill to offer my patrons, for I was also a writer.
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LibraryThing ReviewUser Review - scottcholstad - LibraryThing
I first read this book and most Fante books some 20-25 years ago and haven't picked any up since. Until now. And I have no idea why I waited so long. It didn't take very long for me to remember why I ... Read full review
LibraryThing ReviewUser Review - bjeans - LibraryThing
Another Fante. I can't help it, I love this man. This was not a bad story but it lacked his poignant descriptions that usually seemed so effortless and the tortured protagonist was too easy to read ... Read full review