““What do I look for?” he asked her as the enormous green-and-white signs loomed and passed overhead. “Look for Sunset Boulevard,” she said. “That’ll at least be – look out, John – that’ll at least be a place to start.” All he knew about this city, from two brief business conventions, was that it wasn’t really a city at all. It went on for miles in all directions without ever becoming a city, and the part of it called Hollywood was the most elusive of all; but starting at Sunset Boulevard sounde...d better than starting at Hollywood and Vine. “Good,” she said when he’d navigated the exit and they were riding down the pleasant, palm-lined avenue. “Now if we just stay on this for a while it ought to turn into the Strip.” It did, and they checked into a motel not far from Cyrano’s. Soon he was pouring whiskey over little motel ice cubes and she was kicking off her shoes on a king-size double bed. If nothing else, they were here. “Cheers,” he said. “I guess the first thing we ought to do is find an apartment,”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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