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authorHolden Rohrer <hr@hrhr.dev>2020-02-13 18:27:43 -0500
committerHolden Rohrer <hr@hrhr.dev>2020-02-13 18:35:29 -0500
commit162d79c9b69f08311b6059af5f4d31094a405be5 (patch)
tree5fd5cceb26a7569426a8f813ae254c912b14a4d0
parentc4d59061ab35e542948a43004cd38d472cbd57c1 (diff)
revisions to gatsby story
-rw-r--r--jones-la/gatsby-proj.tex24
1 files changed, 12 insertions, 12 deletions
diff --git a/jones-la/gatsby-proj.tex b/jones-la/gatsby-proj.tex
index 0e83781..3c9332f 100644
--- a/jones-la/gatsby-proj.tex
+++ b/jones-la/gatsby-proj.tex
@@ -3,21 +3,21 @@
\font\twelvett=cmtt10 at 12pt
\font\twelvebf=cmb10 at 12pt
\twelverm\let\tt\twelvett\let\bf\twelvebf
-\centerline{\bf Rough Draft: Gatsby and Wolfsheiem's Business Arrangement}
+\centerline{\bf Gatsby and Wolfsheiem's Business Arrangement}
\baselineskip=24 pt
\nopagenumbers
``Let's get moving, old sport.''
Gatsby and Wolfsheim shuffled through the back door of the Metropole, having left a decent sum on the tabletop.
-Wolfsheim hopped in the driver's seat of his black Model A and bade Gatsby towards a grey automobile %choose a car
-with a collection of street names scribbled on what would be the inside of an antique wine from 1912.
-The window rolled up and the Ford chugged away into the New York City grid.
+Wolfsheim hopped in the driver's seat of his black Model A and pointed Gatsby towards a grey automobile %choose a car
+with a collection of street names scribbled on what could be the inside of a wine label.
+Wolfsheim's window rolled up and the Ford chugged away into the New York City grid.
-Gatsby---sitting on the cold, leathery seat---interrogated the directions received, which read:
+Gatsby---sitting on the cold, leathery seat---interrogated and traced the directions received, which read:
\bigskip\line{
- \tt\hfil
- \vbox{\halign{&#\cr
+ \hfil
+ \vbox{\halign{&\tt #\cr
Head to the Grand Concourse\cr
Turn at 203rd Street towards Jerome Park\cr
Park at 234 East\cr
@@ -26,9 +26,9 @@ Gatsby---sitting on the cold, leathery seat---interrogated the directions receiv
}}
\hfil
}\medskip
-In front of a young store attendant lay a hidden counter with a number of hand-filled glass vials of alcohol interspersed and disguised in medicinal containers and a glass door with a ringing bell that commenced its small song immediately as a pair of men marched through the sparely open doorway.
+In front of a young store attendant lay an out-of-sight counter with a number of hand-filled glass vials of alcohol interspersed and disguised in medicinal containers and a glass door with a ringing bell that commenced its small song immediately as a pair of men marched through the sparely open doorway.
-``Hand me of them beverajs,'' Wolfsheim demanded the clerk.
+``Hand me of them beveragges,'' Wolfsheim demanded the clerk.
``I'm not sure what you're talking about. We don't sell beverages here; you can grab some cough syrup or head down the street to Wesley's for a pop.''
@@ -36,8 +36,8 @@ In front of a young store attendant lay a hidden counter with a number of hand-f
The clerk glanced out towards the street and made an attempt at a subtle nod towards the partially silvered windows. He leaned in and almost but not quite whispered, ``you oughtta block the windows lest a copper peers in.''
-Gatsby was already working on twisting the blinds partially shut---enough to make an onlooker's job difficult but insufficient to arise suspicion.
-After an unbearably long pause, a mangled hand scraped the shiny deadbolt as a ``Closed'' sign spun around and reported to the outside world that they were no longer permitted inside.
+Gatsby was already twisting the blinds partially shut---enough to make an onlooker's job difficult but insufficient to arise suspicion.
+After an unbearably long pause, a mangled hand clicked the shiny deadbolt as a ``Closed'' sign spun around and reported to the outside world that the interior had become sacrosanct.
A servile hand obsequiently and delicately unpacked and passed one of the slightly brown-tarnished vials over the counter.
@@ -54,7 +54,7 @@ He grunted towards the register, ``Ya got much?''
The clerk reached into the register and peeled out a number of tattered and dimly green five and ten dollar bills, amassing an meagre pile in Wolfsheim's outstretched hand.
The clerk apprehended from the disappointed expression that Wolfsheim thought the amount he had been handed was insufficient and began to search the near-empty drawers for any speck of green left in the desolate grey.
-He gave up his search after a short amount of time, which was treated with Wolfsheim's critical, ``That's really all you have?''
+He gave up his search after a short amount of time, which was treated with Wolfsheim's critical, ``Is that all you've aggtually got?''
The clerk let out a meek ``I think so,'' and attempted to search for a remedy to the issue, availing nothing.