Clearwater Journals

Wondering if I was falling for one of the oldest tricks in the book, death by distraction, I took a quick glance over my shoulder. Two guys who looked as if they had already spent too much time in bars today were hesitantly making their way towards our table. I didn’t recognize either one of them, so I turned back to Mia.

  “I see,” I said again. There was more to her explanation. I could be patient.

  “Mia! I thought that was you. Long time no see babe. You lookin’ hotter than ever.” It was one of the young drunks. “How ya doin’?”

  The two guys stopped at our table and one of them—a guy, who looked like he could do stand in stunt work for Arnold Schwarzenegger in his prime, leaned heavily on the edge of our table. His beery breath was enough to make me edge back in my chair. “I heard you were working somewhere out here. They got a strip club on the Beach now for all the old farts?” He laughed loudly and looked back over his shoulder to see if his buddy was enjoying his incredible wit. His buddy smiled weakly but looked around nervously. This wasn’t the kind of bar he was used to—no country music, pool tables or any other stumbling drunks.

  “I don’t do that anymore Billy Ray,” Mia said anxiously. “I told you that before. I haven’t done it for a few years now.”

  “Maybe you could do a little private show for Sammy and me? Show us what you got. We won’t tell no-one. What you say to that babe?” he asked as he pushed hard in over Mia. She shrank back in her chair while looking over at me for help.

  “Maybe you’ve had a little bit too much to drink there buddy, eh? And you’ve forgotten your manners too—yeah?” I said quietly while slipping my hand over the long handled silver spoon that still had a bit of melting whipped cream dripping from its tip.

  “And who the fuck are you?”

  “Just a friend of Mia’s. I really don’t think she wants to talk with you anymore right now.”

  “Well, fuck you and the horse you rode in …”

  That was about as far as he got. I swept his arms and kicked the table out from under him hoping that Mia would react fast enough to get her legs out from under the collapsing table.

  Gravity took over, and Billy Ray crashed to the floor in an awkward drunken sprawl of legs and arms. His friend, Sammy, made a sudden lurching move towards me. As he did, I wheeled around and rammed the spoon up under his chin. He hadn’t seen my weapon, so he was probably wondering if I was about to cut him a new mouth. Billy Ray was working awkwardly to get his legs under him when I kicked him in the face—hard. He went out like a cheap light bulb in a power surge.

  The diminutive waiter arrived on the run anxiously trying to make sense of the scene in front of him.

  “We’ll be leaving now,” I said to a stunned Sammy. “You and Billy Ray here can look after the rest of the damages.” I quickly peeled off three twenties from my money clip and handed them to the waiter.

  When we were outside and moving quickly back towards the IHOP, Mia grabbed my hand. “I’m parked at the back of the lot. Are you okay Joe?”

  “Yeah,” I replied looking back to see if anyone was following us. There was no one.

  When we reached the back of the IHOP parking lot, Mia led me to an older model dark coloured Honda Civic that had definitely seen better days. The relic looked as if it might have been in a few recent fender benders—maybe more than a few. Even in my adrenaline driven rush, I remember thinking, “This woman might not be a great driver.” Mia unlocked the doors, and we got in.

  “Why did you have to kick him?” she screamed as she fumbled to get her keys into the ignition.

  “Did you see the size of the guy? Six three or four—maybe two-forty to two-sixty! Drunk to boot! And with a friend almost as big!” I replied incredulously. My voice was too loud. The adrenaline pump was just starting to ease off. I made an effort to lower my volume hoping that she would follow suit. “Me—I’m six one—maybe one ninety—one ninety-five if I eat too many Death by Chocolates. You really don’t believe that I should have fought fair—Marquis of Queensbury shit? That big mother would’ve killed me.”

  “I guess so,” Mia replied quickly as she fired up the reluctant Honda.

  “What was that all about anyway? The one guy, Billy Ray, obviously knew you.” She started to pull the car out of the parking space without checking her mirror or anything else.

  “I went out with Billy Ray once or twice just after I came back here to live. He’s a friend of my brother, Terry. They hang out at the same gym. At first, he was kind of nice to me. I didn’t know too many people around here anymore, so I thought—what the hell! On the second date, I found out what a jerk he is. He said he wanted to take me shopping which sounded kind of nice. And then he took me to a porn joint out by the dog track. He wanted me to pick out a few sex toys and then sleep with him and his friend. He’s a pig. He also thought it might be a great idea for me to hook for him—maybe make some home movies. I told him to get lost. I haven’t seen him in months. If I ever do see him coming, I usually take a quick hike in the other direction real fast.”

  The End of My First Date in Paradise