The Best Hotel Room I Ever Had

摘要

<正> One bitter-cold January day in 1948,I arrived in New YorkCity during a raging snowstorm with nothing but a small suitcase,a portable typewriter and high hopes for a job with an advertisingagency.For nearly a year I had been jobless,desperately broke,and I often came to the city looking for work or for someone who’dbuy an article I’d written.The agency interviewer sat there,smug and self-righteous,ready to blackball me for the look of my haircut,the sound of my