A Most Embarrasiing Encounter With Little Women

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The first salesman

I ever encountered

visited our 6th grade classroom

with book catalogs.

He wore a plaid jacket
that was louder than his voice.
 

But the salesman was
so funny and entertaining,

thirty students in Mr. Bauer's class

were determined to sell

as many books as possible.

Whoever "sold" the most books

would be honored

with a free dinner

for his/her family at

Freddy's Pizzeria.

In 1961,
I was not
 a serious book reader

but this was a competition

and I was all for it:

All I had to do
was think of it
as a sporting event.

On the handball court,

I was the best barefoot player

in Whitestone Park.

When we played tackle football there,

I was the hardest person to tackle

because I only played with

kids who were at least

two years younger than me.

I had won three bowling trophies

but they all had to be returned

when we got caught cheating.

By cheat or tall order,
I was determined to win
this book-selling game.

There were a lot of people

in my extended family

who liked books

and I was ready to contact

all of them.

BUT
some of my

neighboring cousins

got to them before I did,

including seven books

my parents ordered
from my cousin Richard
whom I hated for two weeks.

 ***

If the day the books were delivered
to our classroom

was Opposite Day,

I would have won 

the bookselling contest.

I had ordered four
books about athletes

for myself

(at my parents' expense, of course)

but all of

Gurnsey Van Riper's books 

were sold out.

They did, however,

pay for a book for my sister, Linda.

I turned out to be the only student

in Mr. Bauer's class

to make less than two "sales."

So when Mr. Bauer

called my name,

the salesmen proclaimed

"LITTLE WOMEN is the only book

for this little boy."

"This little boy

broke into his piggy bank

to get that book for my little sister

who has cerebral palsy." 

That comeback shushed
my laughing classmates.

I could have killed that salesman

and probably would have done so

if I hadn't been so embarrassed

and forced to lie through my teeth

about my sister.

(Her only physical handicap
was that I wasn't wrapped up
in her arms.)

Linda Oliverio was actually

the hula-hoop champion

of 6th Avenue in Whitestone.

She could throw a football
further than anyone I knew.

I never played football on her team
because my ten year-old sister
 always threw the ball
much further
than I could run.

Anyway...
the salesman
really had nothing to worry about
as far as someone rubbing him out
because twelve year-old boys

are much better liars

than killers

BUT

the absolute truth is this:

My sister's brother

would have been

the hula-hoop champion

if I didn't have

a sneezing attack

after 250 hoopies
!!!

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Footnotes

My sister's brother has gone
a total of sixty-nine years

without ever reading anything written by

Louisa May Alcott.

This page exists

only because I just read about

Louisa May's father. 

Between 1956 and 1975,
I patronized FREDDY'S PIZZERIA

at least 200 times .

When I revisited there in 2001,

the quality of the pizza

was still other-worldly

and there was instant recognition

between the owner and myself.

The owner's name is Angelo

and his brother Freddy owns

a restaurant called

ANGELO'S PIZZERIA.

I was flattered by how well

Angelo remembered me.

His first words to me were:

I'm not gonna have to 

throw you out of my restaurant

again, I hope.

I held the dubious distinction

of being thrown out of his pizzeria

more than anyone else

but my family spent

so much money there,

Angelo never said

an adverse word

to my parents about me.

AND THEN

—God bless my Goombah—

Angelo gave me

a free slice of pizza.

That had never happened before.    

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