BENEFITS OF AMERICAN LIFE
25
neck or hips, laid her head against him, and fell asleep while
he dragged her tiresomely around the floor, and when he fell
asleep, she did the same with him. Again and again, their
bodies were jolted, shoved, pushed against each other, and he
began wanting her so that her very nearness became excruciat–
ing. And he noticed that she, particularly in the early dog hours
of the mornings when there was scarcely any spectators in the
hall, began brushing herself against him at every opportunity,
looking feverishly into his eyes, and telling him smutty jokes.
And the other dancers became the same way, and the fellows
used to tell him how much they wanted one of these girls, any
girl.
Day after day, the marathon grind went on. His eyes
grew heavy. His back ached. His feet became sore, and raw
so that each step was pain, and he felt often as if he were walk–
ing on fire. The hall was almost continually stale with cigarette
smoke, fouled with body odors. He felt almost continually
dirty, sweaty and itchy. Dust got into his nostrils, and his eyes.
He developed a cough. His muscles knotted. He became
like a person who was always only half awake, and everything
took on the semblance of being a semi-dream. Marie, also,
changed. She began to swell around the buttocks. Deep circles
grew under her eyes. She became haggard, and blowsy and
looked like a worn out prostitute. She used more and more
cosmetics, and her face became like a ghastly caricature of the
pretty girl who had entered the contest.
In the beginning, particularly because of his accent and
Greek heritage, Takiss became the butt of many jokes. Over
and over again, he would be asked why he wasn't running a
restaurant, and he would be given orders for a piece zapple pie
kid. He wa's nicknamed Restaurant, Fruit Store, Socrates,
and Zapple Pie Kid. In time this wore down, and failed to
anger or disturb him. The grind settled into habitual misery
and torture. He, like all the other contestants, would long for
fresh air, and during rest periods, when they were not so tired
that they would be dragged like walking somnambulists to the
rest cots, would enter the vile and filthy dressing room or the
equally unsavory lavatory, and jam their heads out the window
to breathe fresh air, and to look longfully down at the street
where people walked free to do what they wished, not tirect,
able to breathe fresh air, even the fresh air of a city street that
was saturated with carbon monoxide fumes and sootiness.
