62 <8> A FIRST DATE WITH JOHN DIEDERMAYER The weekend began for her with that luxury of all luxuries, sleep. Homosexuals weren’t looked too kindly upon in their exclusive suburban neighborhood, not even dashing handsome ones. As he stood upon the bridge, he held down the light, and looked into the profound abyss. She put out her hands to avoid his embrace. By this time Capes’ hair had bleached nearly white, and his skin had become a skin of red copper shot with gold. He rested his brow on his hand and conveyed magnificent tragedy by his pose. "You must have made some exertion to keep your present appointment. “Who are you?” She asked innocently. If he hasn't a job for you, he'll know someone who has. “He means nothing!” She whispered loudly. She let out a wail.
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