Book your ticket to happiness with Sun Express Airlines. Pat Novak for hire. The Sure, I'm Pat Novak, for hire. Oh, That's what the sign out in front of my office says, Pat Novak for hire.

Down on the waterfront in San Francisco,

Billing doesn't mean much.

Everybody's got the same act.

They're all out to turn a fast buck and when you're in business down here everything but

murders a parlor trick. Once in a while your eyelids get sore from winking it too much but it's a living you get to meet the best people in town.

There's only one hooker you'll have a wake up some morning dead because around the waterfront you don't need a union

card for trouble. It sneaks up and pause you like a wet ghost. I found that out

when I met Bruno's wife.

I closed up early Tuesday night and I went home to catch up on last month's sleep.

I don't know how long I was in bed.

Must have been about 11 when I woke up.

The room was dark and as stale as last year's Christmas candy.

I had the goofy feeling that somebody was in the room with me.

I was breathing kind of hard and I stopped to have a listen.

Somebody was sitting on my bed, either that or the landlord had put in an echo. I listened again.

I don't know back. You're mixed up, friend. I pay the rent here.

Get your hands away from the light, Novak. Just be a good boy and you can collect your old age pension.

Now look, I'm not crazy about waking up with strangers sitting on my bed especially if they got baritone

voices and I'll say your peace and beat it.

Don't get jumpy, Mr.

When your eyes get used to the dark you're going to see a gun about the food away from your nostrils. I want the keys to your boat, Novak.

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