There was a desert wind blowing that night. It was one of those
hot dry Santa Anas that come down through the mountain passes and
curl your hair and make your nerves jump and your skin itch. On
nights like that every booze party ends in a fight. Meek little
wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husbands'
necks. Anything can happen. You can even get a full glass of
beer at a cocktail lounge.
-- Raymond Chandler. "Red Wind"