Dirty Old Men [And Other Stories] (Zane Presents)
“Yeah, man, let me go talk to somebody about this,” L announced as he walked to the front of the line.
We were both dressed in our usual grown-men gear, with dress slacks, fine shoes, button-up shirts, sports jackets and no ties.
“Are you chilly, too?” I asked Carol. She had these light-colored eyes that glimmered in the dark like a cat’s.
She shrugged. “No, not really. I mean, I can wait. We were running kind of late.”
Now that’s my kind of woman. She was taking full responsibility for their tardiness instead of bitching about the outside chill or the wait. I even felt like placing my jacket around her shoulders to warm her up, but without L there to do the same with her friend, I didn’t want to single anyone out.
The next thing we knew, Alonzo had found one of the doormen that he knew from the clubs in D.C., and he got us pulled right to the front of the line.
“Well, it’s about time,” Catherine grumbled as we headed to the front.
“Well, we’ve been waiting here, too,” a blonde-haired white woman spoke up from the long line.
She had a point, but it didn’t matter. The pecking order was in effect, and we were ready to walk in ahead of her, using the VIP status that L had gotten used to around the District.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get in soon. And get yourself a Bailey’s Irish Cream when you do, to thaw out that your nose of yours,” Catherine stated to rub things in.
L thought the shit was funny. Even Carol grinned at it. But I thought it was rather tasteless, like that revealing dress the woman wore.
Then we walked in and had no seats available at the bar. The place was so packed that no matter where we stood, we were in someone’s way. I didn’t feel comfortable about that either. I hated for people to stand around in my way at performances.
“Hey, maybe we should, ah, find one of the empty corners of the room, or stand by the walls and out of the way of the crowd until we can find a table,” I suggested to our group.
Carol was already nodding in agreement with me.
But L snapped, “Man, fuck that. They can hear the music; they don’t have to see the damn band. This band ain’t that good no way. I could have booked them for a hundred dollars at my last event. What’s the name of this band again?”
“The Blackfoot Jazz Quintet.”
“Blackfoot? What’s that, somebody’s Indian name? They look like Black and White Guys to me. That’d be a better name for them.”
I hated whenever Alonzo fell into his theatrics of entertainment. On a regular basis, he would make an obnoxious asshole of himself for the benefit of those around him. But in this case, only Catherine was amused by it. He hadn’t even listened to the band long enough to make a qualified assessment of them. And our standing around made some of the patrons grumble from their seats around us.
“Hey, ah, you guys have a seat somewhere?” a brown-haired white American man asked from a table of four behind us. He was on a double-date of his own. But I knew where that conversation was going before L even responded to him.
“If we had a table, we wouldn’t be standing here,” Catherine snapped. She beat Alonzo to the punch. She was a match made in heaven for him.
“Well, why would they even let you in here, if you can’t sit down and out of the way of people who are trying to see the performance?” the man questioned.
I felt the same way myself. That’s why I wasn’t so excited to cut the line. Real VIPs had restricted areas for their arrival, where they would have the best seats in the house. But we were not established VIPs. That’s why it was best for us to arrive earlier to alleviate any hassles. But since L had bullied his way in, we were now stuck in the middle of nowhere, like an extra thumb.
“We’ll be moving as soon as they find us a table,” Carol responded civilly. I was growing increasingly impressed with her tact.
“And what if they don’t?” the second white man commented from their table. “Everyone’s here to see the band tonight.”
“Look, man, they’ll find us a damn seat, all right. So calm down,” Alonzo told him. My friend had never failed at being a consummate hothead.
I began to shake my head. I was hoping our double-date wouldn’t turn into one of those very long nights where everything goes dramatically wrong.
Alonzo stopped and looked me in the eyes. “I know what you’re thinking, man. But we just got here. And we’re gonna have a good time tonight. I promise.”
If push came to shove, I figured I could at least reconnect with Carol on my own. She seemed like the kind of woman I could get along with.
After a few more minutes, one of the hostesses had found us a seat near the restrooms.
“Aw, I hate sitting next to the bathrooms,” Carol finally complained. “They should never have the restrooms so close to your food.”
I didn’t think they were that close to us myself. The restrooms were around the corner from us. But I did see her point. We were seated at the last table next to the hallway that led to the restrooms. So I was ready to hold out for a better table for her.
“Well, you two can sit on the side away from the hallway to free your mind from it,” Alonzo stated in a compromise.
I could tell that Carol still didn’t like it. She paused for a minute as if to speak her mind. But then she decided to go along with the program.
“All right, well…okay.”
“Girl, cut that shit out,” Alonzo told her. “That bathroom ain’t hurting you. We all gotta use it, don’t we? Or you don’t take shits?”
Catherine broke up laughing. “Oh, yes she do, too. Her shit stink like everybody else’s. And I know it personally.”
I couldn’t believe they were even going there.
Carol shook her head and ignored them.
“Anyway…excuse me, do you have any menus?” she addressed the waitress who was working nearby us.
“Oh, sure, I’ll go get them. Four?”
“Yes.”
As soon as we all got comfortable at our table, L started to grip Catherine up on their side as if they had known each other for years. “I’ll just order some naked spare ribs with barbecue sauce on ’em,” he joked, while grabbing her around her waistline.
Catherine chuckled and didn’t budge to move from him. That made me feel a little awkward. I began to wonder how long he had known her.
“Looks like they have a pretty good menu here,” Carol spoke up to break our silence.
Alonzo looked at the menu on his side of the table. “Shit, look at the prices on this thing. A damn salad is eleven dollars.”
“Jazz music ain’t cheap, baby,” Catherine teased.
“Well, we should’a gone to a damn soul food music spot and paid eleven dollars for the whole damn meal, plus the lemonade.”
“Not on this corridor, you won’t,” I argued. “Maybe ten, fifteen years ago, when they were redeveloping. But now these places have to pay serious rent to stay over here.”
“Bullshit, that’s just what they tell you to raise the prices. I deal with these kind of guys every day; you just write about ’em,” L countered.
“So, what are you saying, you’re not gonna pay for my food?” Catherine asked him with attitude.
Alonzo looked her in the face and grinned. “Naw, I’m paying; I’m just saying what it is.”
“In other words, you’re just sitting over there talking shit,” I commented. “We know what these prices are. We’re grown-ass men. We’re not in college anymore.”
L looked over at me and smiled. He nodded. “All right. Order what you want, and my grown-ass friend over here is gonna pay for it.” Then he laughed again.
That guy was a riot. Even Carol smiled at him.
She added, “So, I got the man with the big bucks then,” and rubbed it in to Catherine.
“Yeah, whatever. As long as I’m not paying for my food in here.”
Alonzo had the women engaged in the wrong conversation. They began to sound like food-grubbing,
gold diggers. So I attempted to change the subject.
“Hey, man, this music ain’t half bad. You should at least listen to the band before you judge them.”
Everyone settled down at the table and paid more attention to the quintet on center stage. Then we had established a head-nodding groove that was more of my liking. I could even feel Carol’s leg, tapping into mine under the table.
“All right, I could give this band two-hundred dollars,” Alonzo joked.
Finally, Catherine looked at him more seriously. “You know what, you’re starting to sound real cheap in here.”
“Yeah, and cheap men keep money, too,” he countered.
“And they also lose out on a lot of good women,” Carol double-teamed him.
L looked over at me, but I planned to stay out of it. I shrugged and kept my mouth shut.
“Are you guys ready to order yet?” our waitress came over and asked us.
Catherine jumped right to it. “Yeah, we didn’t even get a chance to order any drinks yet.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. What would you like to drink?”
We all started to order our drinks, and Catherine started on the food.
“Give me the T-bone steak, well done, with a loaded potato.”
The waitress looked at the rest of us to see if we all were ready to order.
Alonzo shrugged. “All right, give me the same thing. And bring out one of them eleven-dollar salads first with Italian dressing.”
Carol and I weren’t ready to order yet. So we just stuck with the drinks until the waitress made her way back around. And while we all waited, L began to dig into Catherine’s ribs again.
“I told you I wanted these ribs barbecued, didn’t I? What I order that steak for?”
Carol looked across the table with her cat eyes and seemed irritated. That made me realize that Alonzo didn’t know them that well. But he was sure forcing the issue.
“You all right?” I asked Carol.
She turned to face me and smiled. She even patted my right thigh with her left hand under the table. “Yeah, I’m all right. And I think I’ll order the chicken breast,” she commented, flipping back through the menu with her free hand.
“The chicken breast, hunh?” L questioned her across the table.
“Yeah, the chicken breast,” Carol repeated to him tartly. It looked as if he was working her nerves.
“I think I’ll take the salmon,” I spoke up to break some of the tension.
“The salmon, hunh?” L questioned again. Then he laughed. “So, we got a breast and a fish over there.”
“And what are you trying to say?” Carol asked him.
“I’m not saying anything. You guys said it. I mean, that’s what you ordered ain’t it, a breast and a fish?”
“Well, there’s no fish over here, baby,” Carol huffed at him.
“But there’s a couple of breasts over there.”
“And there’s a dick over there, in more ways than one,” she snapped back at him.
“As long as you know it’s over here,” he countered.
“Hey, hey, hey, what the hell is all that?” Catherine finally asked them both.
Their back-and-forth volley had taken off so quickly that I didn’t have a chance to respond to it.
“You sure have a way of words with women, my friend,” I commented with sarcasm. Then I looked at Carol and asked, “You want me to change my fish to pasta?”
I was joking. She caught on to my humor and lightened up with a grin.
“I’m just saying, your guy’s over there insinuating shit.”
“Yeah, as long as you know what I got over here. And it’s on this side of the table,” he cracked.
“Wait a minute, what are you trying to say now?” I asked him.
“I already said what I’m trying to say. She know what I got over here.” He was obviously pulling out the dick-size game.
I said, “Yeah, well, like they say, the ones who talk the most feel that they have to. But I’m packing mine without all the extra fucking noise.”
“Well, excuuuse me,” Catherine growled. We all had a good laugh about it, but I wasn’t trying to go there. Alonzo had forced my hand in the situation.
“So, what we gotta do, measure ’em out on the table?”
“Oh, shit,” Catherine responded, instigating.
I couldn’t believe we were even talking about that at a jazz club over dinner with two new women. But I could tell that L was loving that shit.
“Man, we’re about to eat up in here,” I told him.
He looked at Carol again. “Oh yeah, fish or chicken?”
Carol stopped and stared at him.
I caressed her by her arm. “He’s tripping. This is why I like to go solo.”
“Tell me about it,” Carol grumbled.
I looked into her eyes. “All right, I will. Now if me and you were out together alone, I’d take you down to the waterfront, go dancing, look out at the moon, sip the finest wines, and say what was really on my mind.”
L cut me off. “Aww, you corny-ass nigga. Listen to you.”
“Corny?” I grilled. “Well, what the hell do you call ‘A.B.C. you at the show’? Because I have to listen to that corny shit every other week.”
“I call it a fucking moneymaker,” he responded.
“On corny-ass events,” I shot back.
“Oh, so now my events are corny?”
“If people respond to that corny-ass line, they have to be.”
“Well, what about your corny-ass columns sometimes?”
“Look, it is what it is,” I told him.
“And so is my shit.”
“Ahh, boys, the drinks are here,” Catherine told us as the waitress set down our four drinks with a grin.
Carol was all smiles as if she liked it all.
“Hey, I’m sorry about all that,” I told her. L had me acting out of character.
But Carol shook it off. “No, you gotta say what you gotta say when you gotta say it.”
Alonzo looked across the table and grunted, “Mmmph.” Then he looked at me as if to say, You better handle that shit, partner, before I do.
I guess she must have turned him on with that line, because he took one sip of his drink and asked, “So, how do we all like our sex at this table, from the front or from the back? Because I hear that the back gets it in a lot deeper.”
What could I do but shake my head and chuckle after he asked some shit like that?
Catherine said, “Damn, can I eat my food first? What’s wrong with you?”
He had even gone too far for her now.
“Just two drinks is all you need tonight, man, Seriously,” I told my friend.
Alonzo ignored me and looked at Carol. “How many drinks are you gonna have?”
“As many as I want,” she told him, and took a sip of hers. “I’m not driving, Catherine is.”
Again, Alonzo looked at me and shook his head. I could read his mind. This girl is hot, S. And maybe she was. But you could never read all of a woman’s intentions in just one night. Some women liked to test you and turn you down, once you jumped out too far in the wrong direction. So I continued to play it smart and patiently.
“I gotta go to the restroom,” Catherine announced.
“Are you sure?” L asked her. He acted as if he didn’t want to move to let her by.
“Yeah, I’m sure. I gotta go to the fuckin’ bathroom,” she snapped.
L shrugged and moved to stand up. “All right.” When she walked by him, he pulled her back into him playfully. Catherine looked back at him with an evil eye.
L let her go and raised up both his palms to surrender. “My bad, I just had to test the Charmin for a minute.”
He was really fucking up, man! And he wasn’t even drunk yet.
Then he sat back down with Carol and me at the table.
“So, ah…y’all two like each other?” he asked us out of the blue.
Now he was putting us on the spot.
I looked at Carol. “You introduced me to a good girl. I give her two thumbs up and a high-five.” I wasn’t gonna wait to comment on that at all.
She smiled at me. “Thank you.” Then she squeezed my arm.
Alonzo shook his head across the table again. “Man…” He started to say something and stopped. “Let me get another drink in here.” He stood up from the table and walked back toward the bar area. Carol and I both watched him.
“He didn’t want to order another drink from here?” she asked me.
I shrugged. “I guess not.” And I guessed that Alonzo wasn’t having as much fun anymore. He seemed to be more preoccupied with Carol now than with Catherine. But Carol was with me. Or was she?
“So, what do you, ah…think about what he asked us?” I questioned.
Carol smiled at me. “What, about us liking each other?”
“Yeah.” I had already said my part. She was a lady worth the effort.
Carol continued to grin. “We get along.”
For the life of me, I didn’t quite like how that sounded. But I decided to leave it alone. I had just met the woman. What more could I expect her to say in only a few hours?
“Okay. I can take that…I guess.”
I just had to add that last part, didn’t I? And I knew it was a mistake as soon as I said it. It sounded unsatisfied and whiny.
Carol jumped right on it. “You guess?”
“Well, it just doesn’t sound like, ah…too committed of an answer, that’s all.”
She frowned. “Committed? I mean, I’m just now meeting you. How do you expect me to commit to something already?”
I was sorry I had even asked her. L had influenced me in the wrong way. So I shook it off and grumbled, “All right.”
“All right, what?” she pressed me.
“All right, I’ll leave it alone,” I snapped. I didn’t want to talk about the shit anymore. It was the wrong line of questioning.
Catherine joined us at the table and spotted Alonzo over at the bar with a second drink in his hand. “Why is he over there? He wanted to get a closer look at the band?”
No, he just doesn’t like your ass anymore, I thought of telling her. He likes your girlfriend now. And I’m starting NOT to like her.