Stories
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Had a neighbor up the hill and he had a great wife and son. He was an ex-college teacher over at San Francisco State. He went into the painting business. He was working three stories up on Broadway Avenue in North Beach. It happened just before quitting. It was four-fifty-five on a Friday afternoon, and he was reaching for that last dab and fell to his death. That was a real shame. His family were such wonderful people.
Back in upper Haight the boss was a big mouth - would never have had made a philosopher. He liked to impress people, especially with what a good guy he was and honest and all that. The job was done and he paid me. But he didn't offer me the scaffold bonus he promised. I could tell he didn't forget. I could read his mind. I thought the money I got was pretty good, so now I let him put his money and honesty where his mouth was. I could see him thinking, should he pay the bonus or keep the money for himself. I was not going to say anything. Could see his dilemma: Mr. honesty or the money. He chose the money. I knew but I didn't know if he knew I knew. A bit pernicious perhaps, but the next time he was shooting off his mouth about his honesty I knew there would probably be some conflict. What can I say - the psychology was worth more than the money.
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