I spent a lot of time at the big library downtown, checking stuff out and reading whatever held my interest. I worked through the Vonnegut section, just grabbing whatever names other authors references or stuff I had heard about, Satre, Huxley, Bellow, Roth, anything. My friend mentioned Bukowski and "Post Office" and his review was vague, along the lines of "It's really fucked up."
I read it but it didn't grab me that much the first time. I guess since it was okay I eventually checked out Women. Wow! That was the one. First the subject matter easily held my attention, also the narrator is behaving insanely and often making very poor decisions -- he acknowledges he is aware of this but doesn't spend a lot of time on it, just goes.
I've read most of his books a few times now and ordered Women as a birthday present for a friend who I knew would love it. It's occured to me to order it for some of my psychotic ex-girlfriends, one in particular, but I don't like the idea of giving her anything, or sharing something I like with her, so that's that.