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He was also a published poet in New York. And I would visit him in his shop now and then and he would tell me how his fortunes were going in the poetry publishing business.
No one ever bothered me. One time down in the Plaka during a celebration Greek of some kind, a kid hit me with a large inflatable vinyl blue big bopper hammer, just apparently to show he could hit a tourist, all in good humor just like any other Greek the kid might have hit. Coming from America, if I would see a gang of kids I would always cross to the other side of the street. But no need at that time in Europe of nineteen and sixty-six, no one ever bothered me.
Of course the Greeks could be rude. They had a particular way of saying No ! by raising their eyebrows and a tilt of the whole head upwards while clicking a sound with their tongue, a specialty of shop girls. I was told it means No - why ask me you idiot ? And of course there was the mountza which was the Greek version of the American middle finger, but with all five fingers extended and pointed at one, but which meant : F you and your mother and father and brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, and grandparents and every relative you ever had or friends for that matter, and all of them and whoever they have known for all of time, or at least that was what I was told.
I wanted to tour Europe so I applied for an overseas discharge, which meant I would be discharged from the base there and not from say Fort Dix New Jersey. My vision was a motor cycle trip and would go to London to buy a Triumph.
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