You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘Damsels in Distress’ tag.
Stillman rushes by the Harvard Club entrance at ten past noon and then stops abruptly, almost as if he were attached to a cord that suddenly ran out of slack. His body displays the club’s dress code in full-blown action – he’s got on a light-pink collared shirt, khakis, and loafers – but he has no intention of going inside. He doesn’t wear the dress code; the dress code is him the way a gray tailored suit with a red bow tie is Pee-wee Herman. Weather and level of establishment be blasted – he’s going to look fiercely ready to enter the Harvard Club even when he’s actually heading toward Dunkin’ Donuts, one of his favorite writing haunts.
