I could have gotten laid last night if my car wasn't broke. Damned car!
It's hard to do anything when you can't see. So I was bored out of my mind yesterday, as my glasses broke Friday night. I discovered the reason the lens came out - the frame broke.
So I go out and sit on the front porch to watch the cars go by. That's no fun, as I can't even see the people in them. So I go inside and get a beer. I wish I knew where to buy pot and could afford it, I seem to vaguely remember that when there's nothing to do, pot makes doing nothing very enjoyable. But I couldn't afford it even if I knew where to buy it.
So I drink my beer by myself. Daughter's out at the mall gallivanting with her friends. I finish the beer, still bored. Decide to go for a walk. Slip my now “framed monocle” in my pocket so I can get across the street without getting run over. Maybe I can find a bar with people. At least I'll have somebody to talk to.
Walk past Duff's. One car in the parking lot. Walk past Track Shack, look in the window. Nobody there but the bartender. Shit, Dempsey's probably isn't even open. But there are a bunch of bars downtown, one surely is open.
I walk down third street, by the railroad tracks. Little black kids playing basketball in the street with a portable backboard and hoop in a driveway. A few blocks down a car pulls into a driveway, a white couple gets out and walks inside. Other than that the whole town seems lifeless.
I get to Monroe Street, and the door to Dempsey's is propped open with a chair, so they're open. At least I can talk to the pretty bartender.
And there are people inside! A bunch of guys, and a couple of women. I walk down to the first empty seat at the bar, next to a heavy guy that's in a gay mood. I mean gay in the old fashioned sense, like laughing and almost falling off of his stool gay, not gay as in “not that there's anything wrong with being gay” gay. There is a woman next to him, and she's frowning at him. I put my monocles on and close my unlensed eye. Pretty girl, wearing a loose heavy sweatshirt with a hood hanging down the back.
The bartender comes up. “Hi, Busch?” I tell her yeah, and a glass of water, please. She opens the beer and pours the water, and I walk over to the restroom.
I come out of the restroom and the pretty girl in the sweatshirt is beating the hell out of the heavy guy. “God damned fucking dickhead, you're embarrassing me!” she exclaims rather loudly as she punches him.
“Hey barkeep!” he yells.
“God DAMN it Jarry, STOP IT!!”
I sit back down. He turns to me and says “check out the torpedo titties on that bartender!”
“GOD DAMN IT JARRET! You're going to walk home!”
“Man,” I say, “You're pissing off your wife.”
“She ain't my wife, I just fuck her.”
“YOU FUCKING BASTARD!” she yells.
“Girl friend then?”
“No, I just fuck her.”
“GOD DAMN YOU COCKSUCKER!”
Now, I'm perplexed. I look at the girl. She says “He's just fucking drunk.” And slaps him again. He gets up and walks back in to the restroom. The girl is talking to the guy on the other side of her. Apparently the three of them are together.
The bartender comes over and asks me if I'm OK. Yeah. Mandy's a good bartender, but this Jarret guy is obviously pissing her off, too.
Pretty little pissed off pottymouth looks my way. I'm thinking she's burning up in that sweatshirt, and I say so. It's not chilly outside, and decidedly warm inside. “I'm real thin,” she says, “and I get cold easy.”
I open my arms, “hey, I'm skinny too. But it's warm in here.”
“All I have on under it is a T-shirt.”
Um, that's what I have on.
Jarret comes back. “Man, I figured you would have took my chair to sit next to her.”
“Jarry, BEHAVE!” she orders.
“OK. HEY BARKEEP!”
Thwap! “OW! What was that for?”
“Have some respect, damn it!”
Mandy comes over and fills my water, asks cute girl and the other guy if they're OK, and decidedly ignores Jarret. Jarret says “Hey barkeep, can I have another beer?”
Cute girls says “say please, asshole.”
She gets him a beer. He goes back to the rest room, and I steal his chair. And drink half of his beer. Cute girl laughs. “I'm Steve,” I say, and stick out my hand. “Gin” she says, and shakes it. The other guy had called her Jennifer.
So I'm talking to the two of them, who by now felt they had to explain themselves to me.
It seems they were from a town about thirty miles away, and had known each other all their lives. Jarret and the other guy were mid thirties, Jen was 22 and had just graduated from SIU in Carbondale.
The other guy was married. “So where's your wife?” I ask. He says “She didn't want to come.”
I guessed she knew Jarry then, but didn't say so. It seems that the married guy had a few beers, too, because he's telling me he was fucking Jennie when she was 15. She looks decidedly embarrassed by this. So I make a shot in her behalf. “Oh, then you're a pedophile?”
He blushes. “Er, well, I was only 26.”
“But still,” I say. He looks uncomfortable, and Jennie laughs and starts talking to me. “Fuck him, his dick isn't big enough.”
I was starting to get into the swing of this, trolling the trolls. “So how big is big enough?”
“Ten inches,” she says. “Oh,” I say, “then you like black guys?”
Her turn to blush. “Well, no...” she says. “Ah well,” I say, “Mine's too small even if I weren't too old for you. The ex measured it at eight and a half.” I added, “but I bet you could make it bigger.”
She grins at that. “Seven's big enough. Six is average, you know.” Er, no I didn't.
Jarret, who has been quiet, shuffles the money he had on the bar, yells “BARKEEP!” again. “Man,” I tell him, “Gin's going to knock you on your ass again!”
“That's OK” he says. I point at his money and say “and I'm going to steal that dollar and feed the jukebox!”
“Play some Doors and some ACDC. HEY BARKEEP!”
I lean back. *THWAP!*
I go play the jukebox with Jarret's money. Gin is pummeling him again.
I sit down, Mandy comes over. “Hey,” Jarret says, “Do you prefer ‘barkeep’ or ‘bartender’?”
“Bartender.” Ginny asks the bartender “What's your name?”
Gin says “Her name's Mandy, asshole.”
By this time I was on my second beer and having fun. Married guy, whose name I never did hear, has wandered off trying to hit on three young women who had come in later, and were at the other end of the bar. I talked with Ginny for a while.
She was a nice girl when Jarry wasn't provoking her.
Seems she's going to Europe for the summer before going to grad school to study law. I groaned. Another baby lawyer! I had run across one just last week at K5. “A lawyer?” I ask. “Why a lawyer? People HATE lawyers!”
“Well, there are other things you can do with a law degree” she says. “Like a judge or politician?” I ask. “Well, maybe, but there are other things.”
I mention that it was at least better than my major, fine art. She mentions that she was in Europe before. I tell her I'm jealous, that I've always wanted to go to France and see the Louvre. She says she liked the Sistine Chapel better.
“HEY BARKEEP!” I lean back. THWAP! “OWW!” Jarry says.
Gin repeats, “Her name is MANDY, you fucking jerk!”
“Yeah, dude. Be cool, she's a good bartender,” I tell him. “Leave a big tip.”
Gin makes him go outside. She goes out and has a long talk with him, while I chat with Mandy.
Married guy has bombed with the three chicks. I notice when I put my monocles on they aren't too bad but aren't exactly beauties, either.
Ginny comes back in, Jarry following. “He's going to be good, I had a long talk with him.” It's getting to be about nine, she lets me use her cell phone to call my daughter. I'm of course wishing my car was working so Married Guy could take Jarry home and I could have Ginny.
I excuse myself to go to the rest room. As I'm going in I hear “Hey barkeep!”
When I come out, they're gone and some guy is sitting in my chair. He excuses himself and moves over another stool and orders a drink. Mandy asks him for I.D. and he shows it. She gives him the drink and he tries to give her money. “It's your birthday. Drinks are free.”
“Wow” I say, “I'm coming here on my birthday!”
So I talk with the guy, who's having his first legal drink, about the world and women and so forth, and it seems that I must have my beer goggles on, because he's not impressed with any of the women. I notice it's getting later, and I'd better be going, so I finish my beer and leave.
But before I go I see that one of the three women at the other end of the bar, a blonde one with a nice body but a too small chin looks lonely and forlorn - her friends are talking with two guys, and she's alone.
So I walk up. “I love you,” I tell her. “But I have to work tomorrow, I'll see you sometime” I say, and leave. As I look over my shoulder going out the door she's looking around in amazement, hand on her chest, too small chin dropped and smiling mouth hanging open.
Score several for the nice guy. Even if the nice guy can't score.