what is the word

Friday was pool game after pool game after pool game. At O'Flaherty's with old friends Dave et al I was playing just okay but by the time I got to Anna's bday at Moonshine I had gotten my groove decisively back. I made bank shots I had forgotten I knew how to do & then I even won at Buck Hunter & when I ran into my friend Philip at Coney Island on Saturday he said "What's up hustler?"
At Coney Island Laura & Mary & I had to be the last ones to arrive on the boardwalk. The salt air was getting chilly & I had 3 ciggies left in my pack & I was determined to space them out over the evening. There were plenty of people still traipsing around in bedraggled mermaid costumes & thick crusted body glitter & askew sailor hats but the parade was long over. We were getting hold/cold flashes because the temperature had dropped so much out there by the water but inside Cha Cha's where the band was playing it was stuffy & hot & our skin got clammy. My throat started hurting & I ended up giving one of the carefully rationed ciggies to Phillip because I didn't even want it anymore & by the time I got home I was definitely Sick.
Sunday I woke up sicker still but took a Tylenol Cold & slept for ages. I woke up once to answer the phone but the conversation was dreamlike, it was Polly she was at the Brooklyn Brewery she said I wanted to tell you I saw Chelsea Clinton today.
I said I love Chelsea Clinton.
Polly said She was very blond. Are you OK?
So I told her I was sick & she let me go even tho I would have liked to have been well enough to meet her for beers & run into presidential daughters. Later I managed to go into the city for dinner & was subsequently resuscitated by vitello scaloppine con limone & lots of olives but now I feel like utter shit again & I want to go home & that is all.