There was one weekend he remembered distinctly where Casablanca was playing at the Orpheum … complete with rising Wurlitzer and cute ice-cream boys ...ith bow–ties. It was playing on a Sunday afternoon and that Wednesday morning as they lay in bed idly masturbating each other before facing their own day’s respective crises: ‘Let’s go to the movies on Sunday — we can make a whole day of it. We can have an early lunch at that café nearby and then go to the Orpheum where Casablanca is playing at 1pm. She struggled a bit with her words. I waited, not wanting to issue any more stupid statements from my mouth. ‘I need a place to sleep for the night,’ Amber said. Tears flowed. I think she would have rather driven a nail through her foot than ask me. ‘I don’t live very close to town,’ I said, trying to discourage her, ‘I usually only come in once a week.’ She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘I’ll clean,’ Amber offered, ‘yard work.’ She seemed pretty desperate for someone who. More

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