It’s a cold Thursday night in the fall. My wings and I are scraping through the piss soaked trash along the curb for a gutter game set. We are in the clutches of the fangs of daygame, the poison leaks into our souls. Disheveled and crazed emptiness in our eyes. We’re like a trio of Mexican street dogs that haven’t eaten in three weeks. Nothing on our minds but hunger.
“Maybe the next bar will have girls.”
We tramp through the deserted light of dawn.
“Let’s try Old Red’s”
“Bro, we just left that bar,”
“How about Phenix?”
“That one was also empty.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right.”
“There have to be girls somewhere.”
We continue along the vacant street past the boarded up businesses. Graffiti grows on the bricks like mold. You can watch it consume them. We see a girl. She’s ugly, but maybe she can help us.
“Excuse us, where are the girls?”
“You could try The Weekend.” She says.
“That’s a gay bar, we’re looking for girls.”
“Ughh, you should really be more inclusive.” She says.
FogMan is on his macho shit. He’s letting her know we’re not about that. I’m not sure what his point is.
“That’s chill but were you there? Were there any girls?” I ask.
“You’re much nicer than your non inclusive friends,” she tells me, throwing daggers at their giant smirks.
“Okay, what about cover? We don’t want to pay a door fee.”
“I don’t know.” She says.
“What are you doing out here anyway?”
“I was just texting my abusive exboyfriend and now he’s out coming to get me and he has a gun. I really don’t want to go with him.”
I have to suppress my laughter. Wtf?
“Well, if you’d like you can stand in line with us.” I say.
That moment an old BMW screeches onto the curb side. An egregiously illegal park job. A little white guy hops out.
“What the fuck are you talking to her for?”
“Who are you?” I ask
“Yo, don’t fucking talk to her! Get the fuck out of here man.”
“Who are you?” I ask him again.
“Don’t ask me who I am, don’t fucking talk to her.”
FogMan and Ace continue chatting to her. They keep telling her we’re looking for hot girls. I’m not sure they’ve even noticed the little knome.
“It’s all good man.” I tell him.
“Yo are you armed?” He demands.
Hmmmmm. Better not answer that.
“Are you fucking armed man?”
I watch him with an intent gaze. He’s a chihuahua with rabies, so angry that I’m ready in case he might actually make a move. I hope the other guys are clocking this because I’m going to jump on him if he does and I’ll need them to quickly follow suit. The kid is really that mad. My years of boxing make me very cool in the face of it. To no avail the little dog turns his yapping to the girl.
“Get in the car!” He’s yelling at her, “Get in the fucking car!”
“It’s all good man.” I tell him again.
“I can’t deal with this.” She announces and starts to walk away.
Chihuahua hops back into his car to follow her.
“Should we try to Weekends then?” I ask the guys.
“Yeah let’s go.”
We cross the street and get in line. While waiting there to find out if there is a cover charge I keep my eye out on the street. Ace and FogMan open the three set in front of us but my focus is on security and the chance of some exciting shot to pop off. Jesus. The game has fried me.
A few minutes pass. I see Chihuahua has parked across the street. He’s standing on the sidewalk looking for his true love. Then I see her crossing the street toward us. She approaches.
“Hey I just want to thank you guys for standing with me. My exboyfriend is extremely dangerous and he has his gun with him.”
“No worries.” I tell her. “If you’d like to stand with us you’re welcome to.”
Now the exboyfriend comes across the street and hops over the metal line rail. We’re all together, pressed in a phone booth.
“I told you not to talk to her!”
“It’s all good man.” I tell him like he’s an old friend.
“I have to go.” She says.
She leaves once more. He follows her yelling at her. She’s resolved on ignoring him. He patters along behind her eventually giving up and returning to his city kid pimpmobile.
“It’s 20 dollars to enter.” Says the bouncer.
“20 dollars? It’s a weekday.”
It doesn’t matter. Looks like nobodies getting laid. We walk back to FogMan’s car and go home laughing. I wonder aloud if this story will make a great DHV. Surely it will.
Red Moon Coyote 