Gone Tomorrow

You have to ration your opponents' victories. You have to mete them out, slowly and meanly. You have to make your opponents subliminally grateful for every little bit of compliance. That way you get away with giving up ten small losses a day, rather than ten big ones.

The world is the same jungle all over, but New York is its purest distillation. What is useful elsewhere is vital in the big city. You see four guys bunched on a corner waiting for you, you either run like hell in the opposite direction without hesitation, or you keep on walking without slowing down or speeding up or breaking stride. You look ahead with studied neutrality, you check their faces, you look away , like you're saying, Is that all you got?

Truth is, it's smarter to run. The best fight is the one you don't have. But I have never claimed to be smart. Just obstinate, and occasionally bad-tempered. Some guys kick cats. I keep walking.

"Why not go live on the beach?"

"These things are a way of keeping score. I'm sure you have your own way of keeping score."

I nodded. "I compare the numbers of answers I get to the number of questions I ask."

"And how are you doing with that?"

"Lifetime average is close to a hundred per cent."