Apparently,
I'm not in this story.
— A Conscience
By this point, my dating disasters were becoming the stuff of legends at The Shady Lady Exchange.
After hearing about most of my latest mishap, Keri said, "Girl, we're taking you out tonight. You need to get drunk."
"I can't go to a bar. I'm nineteen."
"Lorraine's coming too. She'll get you a fake ID. She knows a guy."
Gary's the kind of town where everybody knows a guy, and the only guys who don't know a guy already are the guy.
In a thriving big city, you've got haves and have nots. It's pretty easy to tell who's who. In a place like Gary, everybody's running a scam to get everybody else's scraps. For every scam, there's a guy. For every scrap, there's a guy looking for a guy to help him get it.
Or her.
Lorraine's an older woman, but she's the guy for everybody at The Shady Lady. Well, she's the guy who gets the guy, but that still makes her the guy. Need something, but you can't ask anybody? Ask Lorraine.
When we took our lunch break, she took me to a shitty print shop called Prints Plus. Apparently, the Plus meant plus shady shit. Some homely bro named Reggie took my picture and told me to come back in an hour.
After lunch at a burger joint across the street, Lorraine and I returned to Prints Plus. I gave Reggie fifty bucks and he handed me a new ID that didn't look anything close to being legit.
"Who the hell is Hellen?"
I immediately felt stupid for asking.
Lorraine said, "C'mon, Dandy. They're not gonna put your real name on a fake ID. With this, you're Hellen, from Hammond."
"That sounds SO fake."
"Doesn't matter. After work, we're going to a place with a patio, so we'll be outside. Pay in cash. Nobody cares. It'll be fun! You'll see."
For the most part, she was right.
The bar was called The Bitter End. It was in a narrow trench of a building stuffed between two warehouses, parts of which had been converted into hipster lofts. Other parts were either falling down or being restored. Sometimes, it's hard to tell which is which.
The Bitter End was dark and deep, like one big long hallway, with tall booths on both sides. The patio was out back, which meant it was outdoors yet boxed in by the sides of old warehouses. The place had been intentionally uglied up, to make it look authentic for the hipsters, which meant drinks were overpriced.
Poverty cosplay is a vicious lie. I couldn't help scanning the place to see which of these rich fucks needed to get got, so they could learn how to have fun being poor.
I made off with eighty grand from Steve's place. That was surprisingly easy. Then again, I did have his keys. I sold his car too. It felt weird selling a Jag so I could buy myself a used Honda Civic, but when you're spending sketchy cash, flashy is bad.
I don't care if a guy deals pot. That's fine. But I'm not cool with the hard stuff. Fucking meth, heroin, and worse. I was just gonna rob him, but when I realized he was dealing to kids, it was time to shut him down. Along with the money, I found a list of schools, times and customers in a little black book. It was locked in a safe. I didn't have the combo, but the key to reset it was on his keyring.
I went to the hardware store to have a copy of his keys made. I gave his little black book and a copy of his keys to a couple of the heavies from The Boxtan Inn. Fuck anybody who fucks up kids. When Steve got out of the hospital, I knew they'd put him right back in, or...
THUMP.
"...Dandy? DANDY!"
"OUCH!" Shit. "Sorry Lorr."
"You OK?"
"Oh, yeah. I was just thinkin' about somebody. What's up?"
"What do you think of the guy over there. Black T-shirt. Glasses."
"Are you serious?" I said. "The shirt with the B that says 'Sovereign Citizen'? What the hell is that?"
"I think it's a video game."
"Yeah, no thanks. We've met. He's a douchebag."
"How about the guy two tables over. Blue button down. I think he was checking you out."
"I'm sure he wasn't. And anyway, I'm off the market for a while. Just here to chill."
The girls meant well, and they were actually pretty cool.
Keri acted tough, but she's a softie. She's got a huge family and she'd do anything for them. Anything but bail out her cousin Larry, I guess. Maybe he didn't ask. And even if he did, could she afford what he owed? Probably not. I knew she worried, though.
And then there's Lorraine. She'd put up with anything as long as everybody showed up for work. She pretended the "youngsters" drove her nuts, but she adored all the girls at The Shady Lady because we made her feel young. She was only in her thirties, but she had kids, and I kinda think she felt old. I think she wanted more from life than this. Or maybe I read way too much into it.
I think too much when I drink. I usually talk too much too, but my mind was distracted because this place was such a feast for the eyes, even if mostly in a phony way. Fucking hipsters.
After a few, I had to use the restroom.
"Hey, I'll be back."
The ladies room had a line waiting to get in, but the men's room was empty. Fuck it. Good enough.
I picked a stall. As I did my best to hover over a toilet without touching it, I heard the men's room door open with a slap.
"Ahahahaa, oh baby, yeah I bet you're real good. Show me what'cha got."
I thought, "You've gotta be kidding me."
Some guy took a hooker into the stall next to mine, to do the deed. I was hoping they wouldn't notice me. I don't know why. I never cared if Trina Wilson knew I was there, but when mom had one of those guys over, I did my best to disappear.
"Uggghhh..."
"Ohh, hey, go easy OK?"
I heard a thud which I assume was the guy, putting the girl against the stall door. Then, I saw his pants, down around his ankles. He stepped out of them, which seemed... odd. I debated how long I should wait in the...
"Uggggghhhh... Urrrrrgh!!!"
"Oh. Easy. Come on."
Sheesh.
I debated how long I should wait in the stall before quietly sneaking out. And why the hell was I sneaking??? I barely started debating that when I heard a jingle-ting-ching on the floor. From my side of the stall, I could see his keys on the floor. I guess they fell out of his pocket. And his wallet was in his pants, which he was no longer wearing, so...
I begged myself not to do it, but I couldn't resist, and it wasn't like either of them would notice as he moaned and she sort-of groaned.
"AaahhoooooooOOOO!!!"
"UURGGHHH!!!"
I gently reached my foot into their stall and slid his pants my way.
"Uuuooouh!!! UGHH!!! Uuuooouh!!! URGH..."
"Ohh... Oww... Hey, UGHHH!!! Easy!!!!"
I snatched the wallet. I swiped his...
"Uh huh... Urrgk... Uh huh... Ehhhrrrgh..."
"HHMMmm... Hmmm... HHhmm... Uugh..."
Good lord.
I swiped his cash and quietly left the restroom, dropping his wallet where they'd find it, because I'm nice.
"OHHH I'M GONNA!!! BLOW!!!"
"OWWW!!!! URGHHH!!!"
Ohyougottabefuckingkiddingme.
"Ohhhh that was... good baybeee..."
"Fuck you... Uhhh. Ouch."
I hoped she was got paid up front as I went back to the patio, to find the girls from work
When I got back to our table, Blue Shirt was sitting with them.
"Thomas says he wants to buy you a drink," Lorraine said.
"Ah, so you're Thomas."
"Yes, I am. What's your name?"
"Whiskey."
"Your name's Whiskey?"
"For now. And it's what I'm drinking. Real name comes later, if you're lucky."
That was a lie.
"Alright," he said. "I like a challenge. Be right back."
As Thomas left to fetch the drink, Lorraine got up too.
"Hey, it's getting late. I think we're gonna head out. You good? Or do you need one of us to stick around."
I told her I'd be fine. I always am.
When Thomas returned, the hooker was coming too, a few steps behind him. I recognized her shoes.
I started to panic. Did she know I ripped off her John? Was she coming for the cash?
As Thomas sat down, she grabbed me.
She wrapped her arms around me, shouting, "Angie, baby! Where you been, Butterfly?!?"
I tried to get away, but she wouldn't let me loose.
I said, "Whoa, I'm not Angie," as she pulled me closer. "What the??? I told you, I'm not..."
The hooker put her lips to my ear. She whispered, "Don't drink it, girl. He put somethin' in it."
Oh, shit.
I didn't know what to say, so I started apologizing. "Sorry, I'm not Angie, but I hope you find her."
"Aww, fuck! What are you sayin' sorry for? My mistake. My bad. You have fun now, OK?"
She winked as she turned away, and her ass swayed from side to side as she headed triumphantly back inside the bar.
"That was strange," Thomas said.
"Guess she thought I was somebody else."
"Guess so. Anyway, here's your whiskey. I got us both a double."
"Same drink," I said, with a grin. "That's good."
That was very good.