Titans of Chaos

There was an art deco statue of Atlas shouldering his globe in the center. A golden figure with atorch streamed across a high upper panel above the glassed-in counter. A repeating design ofwheels with wings sprouting from their hubs ran to the figure's left and right. The place lookedlike a temple, but more grand.

And it was convenient. We did not have to show any paperwork or visas; the clerk at theexchange desk looked up the current exchange rates, explained there was a fee, took our Britishpound-notes, and gave us Yankee greenbacks. Voila.

I noticed, as the people waited in line, one underclass type, a poorly dressed day laborer from thelook of him, who got waited on when his turn came. The clerks did not move to the more nicelydressed gentlemen first. That is not the way it happens in British shops. It was also hard to tell aperson's class by how he dressed. The Americans all dressed pretty much the same. Even the bankclerks did not wear neckties. It was all so Bohemian and informal. I overheard one clerk callinghis manager-a woman, mind you- by her Christian name, rather than by her family name. Smallwonder they call this the New World.

It was not until we were outside again that I noticed one drawback. We were standing on thesidewalk, near a hot-dog vendor. I said to Vanity, "Can you buy me some breakfast? I've neverhad a real Chicago chili dog."

"This isn't Chicago!" she said.

"The sign says-"

"Oh, Amelia, that's just advertising.... Where is your money?"

"In the fourth dimension. I stepped in the bathroom at the bank and folded the envelope into mywings."

Vanity said, "Why put your money where you can't get it?"

"Isn't America full of footpads and crime bosses? That's what the telly shows."

Colin broke in, "Let me take care of it."

Colin bought me a hot dog with his money. It was loaded with so much chili and a yellow syruppretending to be cheese that the bun would not close. He mock-solemnly got down on one kneeand held up the little paper container it came in, a knight presenting the head of an enemy to hislady.

It was as drippy as the head of an enemy. The thing was greasy and disgusting, and I should havebeen disgusted. It was wonderful. I wolfed the sloppy thing down in huge and very unladylikebites, enjoying the sensation of being an American girl.

"Thank you, Colin," I said, daubing my lips with a napkin. I should have just wiped my mouth onmy sleeve, I suppose.