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50 Finely Educated Monica and I had finally got around to sitting in a restaurant and eating dinner. Marvin gave us menus and sat us at the table closest to the fountain.Artie the violin player was on the other side of the open-stone fireplace, and through the crackling flame I could see him from his fingers up and down the fingerboard. He was a true master, working the bow across the body of his gleaming mistress. He made her sing melancholy notes as Joe and Mitzi from the car wash incident scooped into their sorbet. Monica unfolded her napkin and placed it over her lap, but I didn’t see what she held in her hand until she snapped her fingers in my face to get me out of the fire. Stephen,hello. She sounded like my third-grade teacher. Miss Bentner commanded a classroom, but she always liked to hear me stumble across 51 “Shortnin’ Bread” on the violin, when I could finally play it. Monica looked particularly stern, her hair up in a messy pile.The longer Artie played on the violin, the more envious I became. I may have sat across from Monica, but he was getting the A. ...

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