While passing the Greek Streak during my walk home from junior high, I would close my eyes or look to my left, east, at the post office to avoid seeing the white plastic replica of the Venus Victrix that still, to my knowledge, is on display in the front windows of that restaurant for all the world to see. Sometimes I would simply walk on the other side of Carbon Avenue. After all, I knew that whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her in