“What is in the package?”
“It’s a surprise”
“Why do you have a gun?”
The car started to speed up, passing by mailboxes at a blur. The blue finish on the hood glittered with the tinkle of the newly placed Christmas lights in the trees of the backwoods neighborhood. The seats were genuine fine leather, black and almost as glossy as the hood. He felt himself slide and squeak across the seat.
“Why do you have a gun?”
Pete reached down and turned the dial on the radio. It looked like an old transistor radio, but was actually quite sophisticated. Satellite radio, 5 disc CD changer, and a newly installed mp3 player, all operated via remote that Pete had extracted from the a small compartment in the ceiling.
He didn’t bother asking again, because all he did was smile and say it was a “surprise”. Large and in charge, always.
The car lurched around a corner and cruised into the next lane at steady speed of 65 mph. He settled on a song and torched the speakers as the car continued its mad-dash to wherever it was going.
Pete kept smiling. What were they doing? He just looked out the window. The driving wasn’t bothering him, although he knew that’s why Pete was driving like this, to see if he can piss him off. He just looked out into the pitch black of the evergreens. Suddenly the car found itself going uphill and forcing him to bounce and squeak into the back of his seat. The cushion was new, the stuffing the stitches.
He fondled the barstool under him. While everything around him was well maintained, the only genuine patina was the stools. The padding was well worn and malible. The vinyl stretched and tired. The bar surface was marred with ashes and water trails leftover from the bar rag. The former well lit sedate atmosphere was commandeered by twenty something urban professionals and gorgeous low cut women.
The room was full of what felt like zebras, moving in and out… He felt the gin leave him, the high was over. He tried to flag down the bartender but he was running around like he wasn’t there.
He stopped asking after a while and kept frozen in his seat. The high was gone, and his fear of being caught had returned.
As hard as this band played, there never was an edge. The drummer rode the toms as often as he could, giving his rhythm a billowy bouncy feeling. The bassist plucked the strings like they were cheap rubber bands, and the piano never stopped sliding the scale. If the music wasn’t competent he could have sworn it was shit.
“A fosters and a green dream.”
The voice came over his shoulder, actually over his head. Looking up the ceiling mirror didn’t tell much other than there was an excess of gel in the hair of a man directly behind. The Bartender, using some sort of black magic caught this order in the midst scooping ice, managed to snag 5 liquor bottles one at a time/ at once/ in under a second. There was a mixture in a shaker, neat. The beer de-capped, shaker filled with ice in one hand shaking, in a blur. The drink poured tall into a martini glass, glowing bright green dashed with fire red cherry.
A silver card came over his shoulder, swiped and returned. The man scooted into Ted’s right. He was younger looking man with a freshly tailored suit, he could tell from its rigid stitching that hadn’t yet formed to the shoulders. With drinks in hand he smiled thanks and disappeared into the room.
And the car found the peak of the hill and for that second all the noise and strain was shoved forward and gravity switched directions. The lights had all been snuffed out ahead and the road felt new, dashed with dirt and rubble.
“Slow down!”
“Come on don’t be a pussy”
“Dude, seriously slow down!”
He smiled and let off the accelerator. The car slowed to a halt and he unbuckled his seatbelt. Opening the door, he cranked the music and stepped out.
He muttered something that was not discernable under the loud growling of the music, but he knew he was taking a leak. He left the door ajar and walked to the other side of the road.
There was no plan, there was nothing to do. Even in a deep blue fully restored 1969 Shelby Mustang. And even more worrisome was the fact that this definitely was not Pete’s car. This was not Pete’s gun. And this brown package…
They were out on the outskirts of town, right around the Haylene’s property. Steep hillsides and pine trees. Judging from the road this was where they were going put in more houses; miles of newly formed destination-less roads that curved up and down the countryside.
They certainly couldn’t get into any trouble, at least with the law.
“Hungry?”
“Pete what the fuck are we doing?”
“Lets get some burgers and bitches.”
“No dude, what the fuck are we doing…”
Pete snatched Clarence’s arm with his meaty hand and squeezed. Clarence struggled to get out of his grasp. But he only squeezed harder.
“Don’t be a pussy”
There wasn’t a single legible clock in the bar. He tried looking at his cell phone, but he couldn’t make it out in the odd little dead zone of light that he was seated in. So he relied on the sports channel which seemed to play the scrolling text on the bottom of the screen every fifteen minutes. Or so he could figure because the band played thirty minute sets and took breaks. The highlights always came on after the start of each set. But their breaks were sometimes short sometimes long so he found it very difficult to gauge exactly how long he had been sitting there.
The truth was it didn’t matter, because even if the information had been displayed for him it wouldn’t change the fact that he has gotten nowhere tonight.
“Another Fosters, a Glenlivets, and another one of these”
He looked up into the mirror, it was hair gel again. In no time at all the bartender had produced a bottle of beer and a delicately poured scotch. The pounding of a shaker then a bright green liquid strained into a tall glass. Finally, the fire red cherry splashed in. It seemed bioluminescent when set on the bar. Then a silver card came over his shoulder, swiped, and returned. He watched the three drinks disappear behind him, but he could not follow them in the mirror. The phrase “standing room only” had become an understatement.
He fondled his arm, they was a big purple finger marks in his bicep. The car exploded down the dark road towards the distant lights of the next town.
“…”
“… (smirk)”
He could see the football stadium lit up. Younger kids were milling around the movie theater. The parking lots were full. The whole town was alive with activity. They pulled into the drive-in burger place and parked.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Death in a Surburban Home part 3
Pete made sure to step quietly and not make his presence known, it was nightfall and Dave had locked himself in the living room. His breathing was slow and shallow, his heart was racing. He reached up and turned the fan off above the stove.
The white noise that had masked his heavy walk across the tile floor dropped out and all the commotion flowed in from the living room.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZyccJUoufDg
“Go Go Go, Nooooo”
He stepped forward; tensing up every time his foot inched closer to the double oak sliding doors to the living room. He could hear the television flip between channels and his brother’s loud chewing. His breathing started to become shallow, and then he just stopped breathing altogether. The television settled on a channel http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gT81blfH1U4, and he unlocked his knees and put his ear as close to the door as possible. He could hear one of the cell phones ring.
“Hello baby… no I am just doing a little work right now… well just wait there then. He will show up when he wants… well that’s your problem, we don’t charge by the hour… look, just make yourself comfortable. Pour yourself something to drink, take a shower… he wont care, just be sexy… look that’s your choice, not mine… I don’t think he… hey hey, just chill out. I gotta go… okay”
“Mr. Brown… yes its all set. I took it for a test drive the other day and got it up to 125 in less than 15 seconds… yea, I know. So when do you want me to drop it off… oh okay. No I understand, so when do you want to come pick it up… well I understand you are a busy man, but I cant hold it here forever… well that would be appreciated…Okay what do you need… and who told you that… well that’s very difficult to get on such short notice… Well its gonna run you close to a grand… well I can always arrange that… the usual price, but this is not a package deal… that I can get right away… sure they’re into it… okay I will take care of it…”
His heart was pounding. His brother has been really busy lately. His phones have always been ringing. The other day someone called the house phone and asked when his package that he sent was ready to be picked up. He was always sent out or locked in his room when these pick ups occurred, so he never knew exactly what his brother was into. There was a pause in the room. No chewing, the television was off. He could hea…
The doors slide open.
“Holy shit what the fuck have I told you”
Pete stood frozen in place. Everything happened so quickly. What the fuck was he doing?!
“What the hell are you doing listening in…”
Dave grabbed his arm and twisted it all the way around his back, his hands felt like clamps digging into his skin. Pulling up on his arm he felt his shoulder starting to pop.
“Answer me you chubby nosey piece of shit”
“I am sorry. I am so sorry.” The pain was unbearable. He was caught, he actually got caught. He was fucked he was so fucked.
“There is no reason for you to be standing listening to my business. In fact we have it set up so all of your business can be done on the other side of the house. You little pampered shit”
Pete was near tears. His arm remained locked behind him, squeezed so hard he felt like it was going to burst.
“What did you hear”
Pete couldn’t muster any words, he was faltering over the immense strain…
Dave kicked the back of his leg and he fell forward on his knees.
“You didn’t hear a thing, got it. Nothing…”
He felt the scrap of Dave’s boot down his back. He let go of his arm Pete doubled over crumpled on the floor.
“Get up.”
Pete whimpered.
“GET UP”
He got to his feet, his back felt wet.
“Come with me”
Dave closed and locked the double doors and lead Pete into the bathroom. Pete took off his shirt and Dave pulled so gauze from the cabinet. The sting from the alcohol was familiar.
“I won’t apologize for this. You do something that I told you specifically you couldn’t, and you were punished. You can’t and you won’t know anything beyond those doors, you hear me…”
He slapped his head.
“YOU HEAR ME”
Pete nodded.
“How is your arm”
“fine.”
There was silence as Dave cleaned and dressed the wounds.
“Alright your back is all cleaned up. Now go change your shirt.”
Pete walked back to his room, feeling the bandages expand and contract down his backside. When he got to his room he heard his brother call after him.
“I am going out for a while. Clean these dishes in the sink and do your homework, I know you have got to have some”
These were the only words Dave said before Pete heard the jangle of the big set of keys and the front door open and close. He heard the Civic start up on the front lawn and peel out down the road.
Pete sat on his bed, alone. The house was silent. He cried. Harder and HARDER. Then he stopped. It was over, that was it. He wasn’t sad or scared. His brother was gone. So he cleaned the dishes like he was asked. There was homework, but he didn’t give a shit about that. He just stood in front of the double oak doors that lead into the converted living room. He had never been in there. All the locks on the house were double deadbolt with chains, each had a corresponding key that made up the loud clangely jangle on the huge key ring his brother carried around. All the doors except these.
He paused. Then he kicked at the door. He kicked again and again and again and again. The door gave in, coming off its runner. He pulled the door apart and looked in. No going back, he didn’t think he didn’t want to there was no exit strategy just action. Just action.
He walked into the room
#$$^%&&^(*)&(*&(*&(&%*%$&^$%*&$&$*&^$*&%&%&%&^$^*#&^#^#%##^&
Clarence was busy rifling through Ted’s drawer when the phone rang. There was a mess of clothes and doodads scattered all over the floor. It was far to late for solicitors to be calling, so he decided that this time he would actually answer.
“Hello”
“Dude, what are you doing tonight”
“Nothing, Ted took the car and stuck me here by myself…”
“Just shut the fuck up and come outside” Click
He got up and looked out the front window of the living room. There was a big blue car parked in the driveway. He opened the front door and walked down to the end of the path and stopped. In the dark he could make out a person sitting in the driver seat of a deep blue 1969 Ford Mustang, dragging on a cigarette and smiling ear to ear. It was Pete.
“Come on dude lets have some fucking fun”
Clarence ran back inside and grabbed his things and locked the door behind him. He ran down the path and landed the front seat, right next to a brown paper package bound with string and .357 Desert Eagle. Or so the inscription on the side of the gun said.
The white noise that had masked his heavy walk across the tile floor dropped out and all the commotion flowed in from the living room.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZyccJUoufDg
“Go Go Go, Nooooo”
He stepped forward; tensing up every time his foot inched closer to the double oak sliding doors to the living room. He could hear the television flip between channels and his brother’s loud chewing. His breathing started to become shallow, and then he just stopped breathing altogether. The television settled on a channel http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gT81blfH1U4, and he unlocked his knees and put his ear as close to the door as possible. He could hear one of the cell phones ring.
“Hello baby… no I am just doing a little work right now… well just wait there then. He will show up when he wants… well that’s your problem, we don’t charge by the hour… look, just make yourself comfortable. Pour yourself something to drink, take a shower… he wont care, just be sexy… look that’s your choice, not mine… I don’t think he… hey hey, just chill out. I gotta go… okay”
“Mr. Brown… yes its all set. I took it for a test drive the other day and got it up to 125 in less than 15 seconds… yea, I know. So when do you want me to drop it off… oh okay. No I understand, so when do you want to come pick it up… well I understand you are a busy man, but I cant hold it here forever… well that would be appreciated…Okay what do you need… and who told you that… well that’s very difficult to get on such short notice… Well its gonna run you close to a grand… well I can always arrange that… the usual price, but this is not a package deal… that I can get right away… sure they’re into it… okay I will take care of it…”
His heart was pounding. His brother has been really busy lately. His phones have always been ringing. The other day someone called the house phone and asked when his package that he sent was ready to be picked up. He was always sent out or locked in his room when these pick ups occurred, so he never knew exactly what his brother was into. There was a pause in the room. No chewing, the television was off. He could hea…
The doors slide open.
“Holy shit what the fuck have I told you”
Pete stood frozen in place. Everything happened so quickly. What the fuck was he doing?!
“What the hell are you doing listening in…”
Dave grabbed his arm and twisted it all the way around his back, his hands felt like clamps digging into his skin. Pulling up on his arm he felt his shoulder starting to pop.
“Answer me you chubby nosey piece of shit”
“I am sorry. I am so sorry.” The pain was unbearable. He was caught, he actually got caught. He was fucked he was so fucked.
“There is no reason for you to be standing listening to my business. In fact we have it set up so all of your business can be done on the other side of the house. You little pampered shit”
Pete was near tears. His arm remained locked behind him, squeezed so hard he felt like it was going to burst.
“What did you hear”
Pete couldn’t muster any words, he was faltering over the immense strain…
Dave kicked the back of his leg and he fell forward on his knees.
“You didn’t hear a thing, got it. Nothing…”
He felt the scrap of Dave’s boot down his back. He let go of his arm Pete doubled over crumpled on the floor.
“Get up.”
Pete whimpered.
“GET UP”
He got to his feet, his back felt wet.
“Come with me”
Dave closed and locked the double doors and lead Pete into the bathroom. Pete took off his shirt and Dave pulled so gauze from the cabinet. The sting from the alcohol was familiar.
“I won’t apologize for this. You do something that I told you specifically you couldn’t, and you were punished. You can’t and you won’t know anything beyond those doors, you hear me…”
He slapped his head.
“YOU HEAR ME”
Pete nodded.
“How is your arm”
“fine.”
There was silence as Dave cleaned and dressed the wounds.
“Alright your back is all cleaned up. Now go change your shirt.”
Pete walked back to his room, feeling the bandages expand and contract down his backside. When he got to his room he heard his brother call after him.
“I am going out for a while. Clean these dishes in the sink and do your homework, I know you have got to have some”
These were the only words Dave said before Pete heard the jangle of the big set of keys and the front door open and close. He heard the Civic start up on the front lawn and peel out down the road.
Pete sat on his bed, alone. The house was silent. He cried. Harder and HARDER. Then he stopped. It was over, that was it. He wasn’t sad or scared. His brother was gone. So he cleaned the dishes like he was asked. There was homework, but he didn’t give a shit about that. He just stood in front of the double oak doors that lead into the converted living room. He had never been in there. All the locks on the house were double deadbolt with chains, each had a corresponding key that made up the loud clangely jangle on the huge key ring his brother carried around. All the doors except these.
He paused. Then he kicked at the door. He kicked again and again and again and again. The door gave in, coming off its runner. He pulled the door apart and looked in. No going back, he didn’t think he didn’t want to there was no exit strategy just action. Just action.
He walked into the room
#$$^%&&^(*)&(*&(*&(&%*%$&^$%*&$&$*&^$*&%&%&%&^$^*#&^#^#%##^&
Clarence was busy rifling through Ted’s drawer when the phone rang. There was a mess of clothes and doodads scattered all over the floor. It was far to late for solicitors to be calling, so he decided that this time he would actually answer.
“Hello”
“Dude, what are you doing tonight”
“Nothing, Ted took the car and stuck me here by myself…”
“Just shut the fuck up and come outside” Click
He got up and looked out the front window of the living room. There was a big blue car parked in the driveway. He opened the front door and walked down to the end of the path and stopped. In the dark he could make out a person sitting in the driver seat of a deep blue 1969 Ford Mustang, dragging on a cigarette and smiling ear to ear. It was Pete.
“Come on dude lets have some fucking fun”
Clarence ran back inside and grabbed his things and locked the door behind him. He ran down the path and landed the front seat, right next to a brown paper package bound with string and .357 Desert Eagle. Or so the inscription on the side of the gun said.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Death in a suburban home part 2
…it hit him:
*if he stayed here he would get nowhere*
#But what if he gets caught? He can’t get up now someone will notice. He should just stay here.#
*But what if he stays, he will be here all night and what would the point of that be?*
He sat there a mulled this over as he watched people enter and leave the golden elevator banks on the other end of the lobby. The bar was now officially crawling with people. The Band took a break; all that was audible was a large collection of small talk.
A group of business men got up, Ted looked at all the empty high balls, tumblers, and shot glasses that had accumulated on their table. The lipstick smudge on a champaign flute left behind by one of their female companions. The cigarette butt floating in the melted ice leftover from a smooth golden scotch. A collection of cocktail stirs neatly stacked on drink napkin. A woman, a golden haired woman in a golden dress cut down the side of her leg, her full creamy white leg extending to a foot arched into a pair of strapped heels a foot kicking idly in the air as she sat on a stool at the bar nursing a very tall, very green martini with a speared fire red cherry.
Oddly enough, she was alone. Well, alone meaning there were three empty stools to her left and all the stools to her right had been dragged two feet closer to the other end of the bar to watch the television.
His heart pounding, he got up and walked over to the stool right next to her. She had her back to him and even after he sat down she remained undisturbed. A rocks glass was set in front of him.
“Your drink sir”
Ted half smiled and looked up at the ceiling. In his two or so hours here he hadn’t noticed the mirror. It was an odd choice for a bar such as this, where everything had an immaculate deep polish and a broad minimal almost sterile feel to it. Yet one look into the mirror and all you saw were dirty bar mats. The contents of the trashcan, a stray cocktail napkin. The floor drains.
He watched the woman next to him. She opened her purse and removed a compact, opened it and gazed into it very intently checking her makeup. She then replaced it into her bag. He was surprised that the he could see so clearly into it. He could even read the label on her cigarette pack.
He watched her, but he also watched the group of men at the end of the bar who had become five times more interesting to watch from this particular angle. He also watched them because she was watching them; she had been since he had sat down next to her. He watched as she put the unlit cigarette to her mouth, and asked the bartender who at the moment was holding court with them, for a light. This broke up the action as he smiled and walked over removing a small golden torch from his pocket.
Ted watched the top of the bartender’s head approach, hold the blue flame and her lean in with her head facing ever so slightly to the men at the end of the bar. With the cigarette lit and her drink replaced he watched as the top of the bartender's head walked back to his point of origin.
And the woman in gold get up from her seat, his gaze trailing slowly downward from the ceiling to her backside walking the length of the bar to a plush couch at the other end. The band started up a new set and soon Ted was drowned in Jazz http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=04g1aFNoBZs. Not a bad thing, but not what he had in mind.
He picked up his rocks glass, which was sweating profusely having not been touched since it set in front of him, and took a huge tug on it. Oh my god.
Pure Gin.
He looked at the bartender who gave him the slightest of winks and turned his attention back to his other patrons. The bar had returned to life, it seems only when people have to shout to communicate that it interests them to move around mingle.
But not Ted, he was staying put, which was fine because everyone was coming to him anyway. Brand new people: in tailored suits, in polo shirts, in blazers. But also ladies, ladies in different shapes and colors: green skinny, blue tall, orange petite. All drinking equally colorful drinks that sparkled has the house lights dimmed into neon. While it remained loud and crowded, this also brought an element of security. He could hide out in the open, at least for the moment.
Before in the ceiling mirror you could see everything the light touched, now it only reflected anything the light smacked and disregarded the rest. The beat picked up and the women started to dance, this dragging the occasional man from his seat. He downed the rest of his gin, and felt his head swoon. The night wore on.
#But what if he gets caught? He can’t get up now someone will notice. He should just stay here.#
*But what if he stays, he will be here all night and what would the point of that be?*
He sat there a mulled this over as he watched people enter and leave the golden elevator banks on the other end of the lobby. The bar was now officially crawling with people. The Band took a break; all that was audible was a large collection of small talk.
A group of business men got up, Ted looked at all the empty high balls, tumblers, and shot glasses that had accumulated on their table. The lipstick smudge on a champaign flute left behind by one of their female companions. The cigarette butt floating in the melted ice leftover from a smooth golden scotch. A collection of cocktail stirs neatly stacked on drink napkin. A woman, a golden haired woman in a golden dress cut down the side of her leg, her full creamy white leg extending to a foot arched into a pair of strapped heels a foot kicking idly in the air as she sat on a stool at the bar nursing a very tall, very green martini with a speared fire red cherry.
Oddly enough, she was alone. Well, alone meaning there were three empty stools to her left and all the stools to her right had been dragged two feet closer to the other end of the bar to watch the television.
His heart pounding, he got up and walked over to the stool right next to her. She had her back to him and even after he sat down she remained undisturbed. A rocks glass was set in front of him.
“Your drink sir”
Ted half smiled and looked up at the ceiling. In his two or so hours here he hadn’t noticed the mirror. It was an odd choice for a bar such as this, where everything had an immaculate deep polish and a broad minimal almost sterile feel to it. Yet one look into the mirror and all you saw were dirty bar mats. The contents of the trashcan, a stray cocktail napkin. The floor drains.
He watched the woman next to him. She opened her purse and removed a compact, opened it and gazed into it very intently checking her makeup. She then replaced it into her bag. He was surprised that the he could see so clearly into it. He could even read the label on her cigarette pack.
He watched her, but he also watched the group of men at the end of the bar who had become five times more interesting to watch from this particular angle. He also watched them because she was watching them; she had been since he had sat down next to her. He watched as she put the unlit cigarette to her mouth, and asked the bartender who at the moment was holding court with them, for a light. This broke up the action as he smiled and walked over removing a small golden torch from his pocket.
Ted watched the top of the bartender’s head approach, hold the blue flame and her lean in with her head facing ever so slightly to the men at the end of the bar. With the cigarette lit and her drink replaced he watched as the top of the bartender's head walked back to his point of origin.
And the woman in gold get up from her seat, his gaze trailing slowly downward from the ceiling to her backside walking the length of the bar to a plush couch at the other end. The band started up a new set and soon Ted was drowned in Jazz http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=04g1aFNoBZs. Not a bad thing, but not what he had in mind.
He picked up his rocks glass, which was sweating profusely having not been touched since it set in front of him, and took a huge tug on it. Oh my god.
Pure Gin.
He looked at the bartender who gave him the slightest of winks and turned his attention back to his other patrons. The bar had returned to life, it seems only when people have to shout to communicate that it interests them to move around mingle.
But not Ted, he was staying put, which was fine because everyone was coming to him anyway. Brand new people: in tailored suits, in polo shirts, in blazers. But also ladies, ladies in different shapes and colors: green skinny, blue tall, orange petite. All drinking equally colorful drinks that sparkled has the house lights dimmed into neon. While it remained loud and crowded, this also brought an element of security. He could hide out in the open, at least for the moment.
Before in the ceiling mirror you could see everything the light touched, now it only reflected anything the light smacked and disregarded the rest. The beat picked up and the women started to dance, this dragging the occasional man from his seat. He downed the rest of his gin, and felt his head swoon. The night wore on.
#$%^^&*()))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))*&( $%^$^%&$^%$^%
&$%^$%^$^%$^%$^%$^%$^$^&$%^$&^%
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^%$^%$^%$^%%$#%$#%$
$^%^%&^%*&*&^
#$%&^
@@
$^%^%&^%*&*&^
#$%&^
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Monday, November 3, 2008
Death in a suburban home part 1
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j1gOxmdBOMI (plays in background)
--->The hot water felt good, like it boiled and separated the crusty dirty sheen that seems to accumulate on the skin throughout the day. He always felt like a new man when he took a hot shower.
The Tiny Bathroom soon became a sweatbox, and feeling sufficiently cleansed and new he turned the tap off and snagged one of the hanging towels.
After toweling off, he hung it back on the rod and checked himself out in the mirror. Not to hairy, just groomed enough. He looked at his face. While he liked the rough texture of his 2 day shadow, he decided he should shave it again. He had a strong enough chin to wear a clean shave.
After removing the last of the foam with the razor and running his hand over his face he…
BOOM BOOM
“What!?”
“Come on Ted, I need to take a leak.”
“Hold on two more seconds”. His brother was home early. Ted slapped his cheeks and neck and corked the small bottle on the edge of the sink. He pulled the towel down and wrapped it around his waist and opened the door. A rush of cold air from the hallway met him abruptly as did the layer of steam and aftershave rendezvous with Clarence.
“Excuse me”
“What the hell are you getting gussied up for?”
But Ted had disappeared into his room and closed the door. So Clarence turned on his heels and walked into the temporary sauna his brother had created and closed the door behind him.
His shaving kit was out with its contents lined neatly on the side of the sink like set silverware. Starting from the outside going in: Tweezers, razor, nose hair clippers, and emery board. Along the other side of the sink lined up neatly was pomade, shaving gel and aftershave. And while the evidence of grooming lingered in the sink, looking at his kit you would never know.
He put down the seat and flushed the toilet. Opening the door to his brother standing in the hallway shirtless, dressed in slacks with his hair meticulously disheveled and arranged to fall down around his eyes and ears.
“You done?”
“What are you all dressed up for?”
“I am going to go out for a drink tonight.” He pushed past Clarence into the bathroom. One by one he placed the bits and pieces of his father’s old shaving kit back into their appropriate places.
“How exactly are you going to do that, 18 year old?”
Only after everything was in its place, the towel on the rack, the kit in the cupboard, and the tubes and bottles had their caps did he respond “I will figure it out.”
“Oh, okay so I guess that means you are taking the car too.”
“You bet your ass little bro.” He mussed Clarence’s hair on his way back into his room and pulled on his button-up shirt.
“Isn’t that one of Dad’s suits?”
“Well they fit me now, so why can’t I wear them?”
“I didn’t say that…”
“Besides, I look good right?”
“Sure… you look like Ted in a suit.”
Ted grabbed the suit jacket off the hanger and walked out of his room into the kitchen.
“Hey” he called back into the hallway at Clarence, “I am leaving some of the money mom left for us on the counter. I might need some tonight, so I am taking extra. There is enough here if you want to order a pizza or get a movie. No porn, mom will flip if she sees that on the bill.”
He got no response, just a guitar solo from his stereo still playing in his room. He didn’t have time for this, he needed to get to the hotel before they started carding at the entrance.
“All right I am going. See ya”
Still no response. Whatever.
He stepped out the back and got into his car. Starting the engine he was halfway down the driveway when it hit him: he was actually going to do this. It was from this moment on, all the way to the hotel that his right leg shook in anxious nervous excited neurotic exuberance.
%$&^&*&%()*(&%^
@#$%%^^&*&*&**()*_)*)*$&^%&^
!@#$%^&*()(*&^%$#@!!@#$%^&*()(*&^%$#$@!!@#$$%%^&^&*&*(*^%
#^$$^%$&^^%$&^%%^$^&$^%&**
$#%$%^%$#%$#%
The surface of the bar was aglow with white and amber lights reflected off of gold fixtures and enhanced by the soft frosty haze emanating from the bright fill light behind the all glass liquor shelf. It was the first thing he noticed when he stepped up the polished marble steps. Deep red leather chairs and couches stretch halfway around the circumference of the bar, and the music, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yX07KbEdemU the music played through speakers, mixed with the television http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZyccJUoufDg which filled the air crawling on the walls permeating the smoke, overriding the thoughts of the few people in this half empty room.
Ted hurried to the barren corner of the bar, away from all of the action on the opposite end, the only action in the room at the moment. And to say action might over dramatize what was actually half hearted conversations about the various muted sporting events, funny commercials, and about the various after work cocktails they were ordering themselves.
The Bartender came down.
“Can I get a water in a rocks glass?”
“Sir we usually don’t do that…”
“Why not?”
“We like to sort our alcoholic and non alcoholic drinks by glass. Besides the water glass holds mor…”
“Look, I just quit drinking, but I haven’t quit bars. When the women start to come down…” he lowered his voice, “and they are drinking their cocktails and see me with my water glass they get uneasy. They will shut me out not talk to me. Do me just that favor.”
The bartender folded his arms and smiled at him, and in his unbroken gaze said, “I don’t know why you quit, its obviously done wonders for your youthful glow.”
He set the rocks glass in front of him and walked back to the other end. An hour passed, and Ted sat in silence watching as the small group at the end of the bar dwindled and grew and then dwindled then spread; his glass every once in a while refilled, the bartender obviously relishing every smirk, nod and “your alcoholic beverage looks like it needs to be refilled”, always remembering to chase his comments with a slightly over emphasized “sir”.
Soon business started to pick up. Ted stayed rooted in his seat; he knew he might lose his vantage point if he got up. The bar wasn’t full, but there was a bouncer at the door and a three piece band had slipped in and started to play a sharp piano driven tune. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BZBer-pSaLI The sunlight disappeared from the atrium and Ted drained his rocks glass.
It was now so loud in the main bar with all the talking, music and laughter antics… he stepped around the side to the couches in the corner of the lounge. It was quieter in this small crook, but now he felt even less connected to the crowds of people at the bar.
It was then…
--->The hot water felt good, like it boiled and separated the crusty dirty sheen that seems to accumulate on the skin throughout the day. He always felt like a new man when he took a hot shower.
The Tiny Bathroom soon became a sweatbox, and feeling sufficiently cleansed and new he turned the tap off and snagged one of the hanging towels.
After toweling off, he hung it back on the rod and checked himself out in the mirror. Not to hairy, just groomed enough. He looked at his face. While he liked the rough texture of his 2 day shadow, he decided he should shave it again. He had a strong enough chin to wear a clean shave.
After removing the last of the foam with the razor and running his hand over his face he…
BOOM BOOM
“What!?”
“Come on Ted, I need to take a leak.”
“Hold on two more seconds”. His brother was home early. Ted slapped his cheeks and neck and corked the small bottle on the edge of the sink. He pulled the towel down and wrapped it around his waist and opened the door. A rush of cold air from the hallway met him abruptly as did the layer of steam and aftershave rendezvous with Clarence.
“Excuse me”
“What the hell are you getting gussied up for?”
But Ted had disappeared into his room and closed the door. So Clarence turned on his heels and walked into the temporary sauna his brother had created and closed the door behind him.
His shaving kit was out with its contents lined neatly on the side of the sink like set silverware. Starting from the outside going in: Tweezers, razor, nose hair clippers, and emery board. Along the other side of the sink lined up neatly was pomade, shaving gel and aftershave. And while the evidence of grooming lingered in the sink, looking at his kit you would never know.
He put down the seat and flushed the toilet. Opening the door to his brother standing in the hallway shirtless, dressed in slacks with his hair meticulously disheveled and arranged to fall down around his eyes and ears.
“You done?”
“What are you all dressed up for?”
“I am going to go out for a drink tonight.” He pushed past Clarence into the bathroom. One by one he placed the bits and pieces of his father’s old shaving kit back into their appropriate places.
“How exactly are you going to do that, 18 year old?”
Only after everything was in its place, the towel on the rack, the kit in the cupboard, and the tubes and bottles had their caps did he respond “I will figure it out.”
“Oh, okay so I guess that means you are taking the car too.”
“You bet your ass little bro.” He mussed Clarence’s hair on his way back into his room and pulled on his button-up shirt.
“Isn’t that one of Dad’s suits?”
“Well they fit me now, so why can’t I wear them?”
“I didn’t say that…”
“Besides, I look good right?”
“Sure… you look like Ted in a suit.”
Ted grabbed the suit jacket off the hanger and walked out of his room into the kitchen.
“Hey” he called back into the hallway at Clarence, “I am leaving some of the money mom left for us on the counter. I might need some tonight, so I am taking extra. There is enough here if you want to order a pizza or get a movie. No porn, mom will flip if she sees that on the bill.”
He got no response, just a guitar solo from his stereo still playing in his room. He didn’t have time for this, he needed to get to the hotel before they started carding at the entrance.
“All right I am going. See ya”
Still no response. Whatever.
He stepped out the back and got into his car. Starting the engine he was halfway down the driveway when it hit him: he was actually going to do this. It was from this moment on, all the way to the hotel that his right leg shook in anxious nervous excited neurotic exuberance.
%$&^&*&%()*(&%^
@#$%%^^&*&*&**()*_)*)*$&^%&^
!@#$%^&*()(*&^%$#@!!@#$%^&*()(*&^%$#$@!!@#$$%%^&^&*&*(*^%
#^$$^%$&^^%$&^%%^$^&$^%&**
$#%$%^%$#%$#%
The surface of the bar was aglow with white and amber lights reflected off of gold fixtures and enhanced by the soft frosty haze emanating from the bright fill light behind the all glass liquor shelf. It was the first thing he noticed when he stepped up the polished marble steps. Deep red leather chairs and couches stretch halfway around the circumference of the bar, and the music, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yX07KbEdemU the music played through speakers, mixed with the television http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZyccJUoufDg which filled the air crawling on the walls permeating the smoke, overriding the thoughts of the few people in this half empty room.
Ted hurried to the barren corner of the bar, away from all of the action on the opposite end, the only action in the room at the moment. And to say action might over dramatize what was actually half hearted conversations about the various muted sporting events, funny commercials, and about the various after work cocktails they were ordering themselves.
The Bartender came down.
“Can I get a water in a rocks glass?”
“Sir we usually don’t do that…”
“Why not?”
“We like to sort our alcoholic and non alcoholic drinks by glass. Besides the water glass holds mor…”
“Look, I just quit drinking, but I haven’t quit bars. When the women start to come down…” he lowered his voice, “and they are drinking their cocktails and see me with my water glass they get uneasy. They will shut me out not talk to me. Do me just that favor.”
The bartender folded his arms and smiled at him, and in his unbroken gaze said, “I don’t know why you quit, its obviously done wonders for your youthful glow.”
He set the rocks glass in front of him and walked back to the other end. An hour passed, and Ted sat in silence watching as the small group at the end of the bar dwindled and grew and then dwindled then spread; his glass every once in a while refilled, the bartender obviously relishing every smirk, nod and “your alcoholic beverage looks like it needs to be refilled”, always remembering to chase his comments with a slightly over emphasized “sir”.
Soon business started to pick up. Ted stayed rooted in his seat; he knew he might lose his vantage point if he got up. The bar wasn’t full, but there was a bouncer at the door and a three piece band had slipped in and started to play a sharp piano driven tune. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BZBer-pSaLI The sunlight disappeared from the atrium and Ted drained his rocks glass.
It was now so loud in the main bar with all the talking, music and laughter antics… he stepped around the side to the couches in the corner of the lounge. It was quieter in this small crook, but now he felt even less connected to the crowds of people at the bar.
It was then…
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