Next to Nothing Clark Handlebar Chapter Five The last Wednesday in March was my last shift at the Border Café. In fact, it wasn’t even a full shift. I only came in to help out a bit because we were short on servers. I had to come in right to the end if wanted to get paid for the three vacation days that I hadn’t used. I actually had five vacation days that I hadn’t used (which was all of them). When I asked if I could be paid for three of them at the time that I put my notice in, I was told that it “depended on my performance” during my last month there. Typical corporate shit. The company has millions of dollars, but they were going to make me jump through hoops for a mere 250 bucks or so. Fuckers.   But I did what I had to do. I worked extra hours and put up with all of the horse shit. All for what would amount to the equivalent of a few nights of drinking in San Francisco. That night Olivia and I packed the rest of my things in to her Rav 4. I said goodbye to my roommates, asked one of them (Joe) to look after the bonsai tree that Olivia had gotten me for my birthday and I headed over to her place to spend my last night in Virginia. It was a fairly quiet evening. Jared (bartender at the Border Café who later became a manager), Demarcus (the guy who bought my Dodge) and I went out for a few drinks while Olivia finished up at work. I spent a lot of time in bars with Jared and Demarcus. Even though they were employees and technically I wasn’t supposed to hang around with them, I did anyway. Jared was also from New Jersey so we had that in common. To me, he looked like a young Forrest Whitaker. He was probably twenty-three or so. We went out drinking pretty often and would sometimes get together to play cards. He was a pretty good card player. He came in second place in a little tournament in Atlantic City one afternoon and won a few thousand bucks. Not too shabby. Demarcus was a server. He was a tall black kid, just barely twenty-one. I think he grew up in Maryland. I know he had an ex with and a couple of kids up there whom he sent most of his tip money to. He was a smart kid. He had a bit of a rough life and he worked hard at trying to keep things together for himself and his kids. They were good guys. And other than fellow managers Jameson and John, and Justin (oddly enough another bartender from New Jersey) they were the only people I really hung around with. After a while Justin came through and eventually Jameson and John showed up as well. We all did shots and talked about work and how strange it was to everyone that I was leaving. The idea of just picking up and moving seemed odd to everyone. I imagine it seems that way to most people. People tend to get comfortable where they are. Most people, normal people, want to settle down. Most folks don’t feel good about taking off and searching for something better. I suppose growing up in New Jersey gave me a bit of an advantage in that department. I grew up wanting to get away from home. Home, a good one, was just an idea to me. A cloudy day dream that I could never really get a clear picture of. I just knew that I wasn’t there. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever been there. Maybe I never will. When Olivia finished working, she met us at the bar. After last call I said my good byes to everyone. We were all quite drunk and I must have heard “I can’t believe you’re fucking leaving” a million times. Not one for long good byes, I tried to make it as quick and painless as possible, but you know how drunk folks can be. By the time Olivia started to head to her place I was exhausted. I could only imagine how it was going to be in a few days when I had to say good bye to her. When we got to Olivia’s we fired up some left over pasta in the microwave and went up to her room. I was feeling quite buzzed and not really in the mood for conversation. After eating we went to bed, fucked quietly and fell asleep.   We got up around 9 the next morning and I waited for her to pack some cloths, talk to her mother, and call her son at his dad’s place. I tried my best to hide how anxious I was to leave. I was sitting on the chair in the living room of the small two bedroom town house that she shared with her mother and child. I sat seemingly patient for an hour or so. Always shrugging off her apologies for taking so long as “no big deals”. I kept wishing it was later so that I could have a drink. I needed something to take my mind off the fact that I was sitting there waiting to leave that awful fucking state. We pulled out of the parking lot at about 1030 and got set to make the 4 hour drive to north/central New Jersey. We would drive to our hotel, take showers and get ready to meet up with Roy for a night of heavy drinking. It was Thursday and I knew that Roy would be the only one of my friends who didn’t have to get up for work or school the next day. I figured he didn’t have a job, but surprisingly he did. In fact, he actually called in dead at about 3am to his boss’ answering machine. Something I’m sure I will cover later on in the story.   The drive was long as you could imagine. We listened to music and talked and did our best to ignore the fact that after a couple of days we might never see each other again. When we arrived to the hotel in the early afternoon and checked in, the only thing I could think about was getting a god damned drink. The small hang over I had had passed and the with drawls were setting in. After getting our bags to our room, I headed immediately for the bar while Olivia got in the shower. I had two shots of whiskey at the bar and bought four bottles of Budlight to bring back to the room for Olivia and me to share. I drank one while I was waiting for her and I drank the other one down in the shower. There is something comforting to me about drinking beer in the shower. Maybe it’s the mix of hot water and cold beer that’s refreshing. I’m not sure. If you haven’t tried it, I strongly recommend it. In fact, put down this stupid book and do it now. You stink. I called Roy to let him know we had arrived. He said he had just gotten paid and that he had plenty of money. Not a very common thing for Roy. We decided to meet at biddings after Roy finished work. That gave us an hour or so to drink at the hotel bar.   We had a couple there and after we headed over to biddings to meet up with Roy. When we walked in I was greeted by a half drunken Roy screaming, “Hey! Fuck Face! Look everybody! Fuck face is here! Three cheers for Fuck Face!” The bar wasn’t very crowded and I didn’t know anyone in there but Roy and the bartendress, Jess. A few of the patrons didn’t even look up from their drinks to see just who this so called fuck face was. I introduced Roy to Olivia. He said “Pleased to meet you.” Then he did some indescribable noise with his finger up against his lips, waved his hand at her, said something along the lines of “Louie get no go!” in the voice of a seriously mentally challenged person and then ran around the corner (to the bathroom I guess). This was the kind of shit Roy would do every now and then. He called it Skuddy McGuddy. Strange I know, but quite fucking amusing. Especially after a blunt or two. Words can’t do it justice. You’d have to see it for your damned self. Really.   Skuddy McGuddy had Olivia rolling and me asking Jess just how long had Roy been here. “Not too long. He said he was drinking at work. He’s only had a beer and two shots here,” she answered. “Fuck,” I replied. “I’ll take three shots of jager and two beers. This here is my girlfriend Olivia. Olivia this is Jess.” She almost couldn’t stop laughing long enough to say “nice to meet you.” Roy came back from the bathroom with a ridiculous “I’ve been drinking all day” grin on his face. To tell you the truth I was a bit buzzed up meself, but the drive from East Brunswick Hilton to biddings (20 minutes or so) almost sobered me up. I was ready to start drinking for real. We drank beers and the occasional shot. I saw a few people that I had known from my old table serving job. Roy’s brother came in briefly as did Dan. Dan couldn’t stay long but we made plans to meet up the next day. After a while, Roy called up Ms. Molinoso. Now I can’t be quite sure what Ms. Molinoso’s first name actual was because I’ve only ever known her as such. She was a school teacher that Roy was sleeping with. When I met her that was how Roy had introduced her. I’m sure at some point she told me her name, but I just don’t remember it anymore. She was an attractive girl. The kind of teacher that, no doubt, her students (8th graders) would fantasize about. She had a thick body. Full breasts, wide hips. She frequented the gym almost daily so she was toned in the places that mattered. She had long curly redish, brown hair and dark eyes. Before Roy introduced her to me he told me that she resembled some T.V. actress. When I met her I agreed. Coincidently it was an actress that I had the hots for when I was younger. Her name is A.J. Langer. Maybe you’ve heard of her. Maybe not.   By the time Ms. Molinoso caught up to us at Biddings, Roy and Olivia were already half in the bag. It was about 10pm and we had been drinking solidly for several hours. Roy had started early and Olivia being only 5 foot tall and maybe one hundred pounds, wasn’t exactly built for the kind of drinking that Roy and me were doing and had been doing for most of our lives. I should have been drunker. I had been keeping pace with Roy, but I felt as if I had to make sure the two of them were ok. They were drinking and carrying on with reckless abandon so someone had to be the voice of reason. Unfortunately that someone was me. Ms. Molinoso walked in and we all did another shot. She drank a beer and I suggested that the four of us go back to my hotel so we could drink with out the concern of having to drive anywhere. We decided to stop off for a 12 pack and then head to the hotel.   It was amazing that we didn’t get pulled over on the way to the hotel. Hermes is the god of safe travel and he must have been with us on that stretch of highway. I was driving the Rav 4 and Ms. Molinoso was driving in her silver Jetta. At times she would pull up along side us and Roy would jump in the back seat and roll the window down. He and Olivia would scream things at each other with their bodies halfway out of the car window. All we needed was for a highway patrolman to see this spectacle at 80mph on the New Jersey Turnpike. At one point they tried to grab each others hands and I quickly changed lanes to separate the two. “Jesus, woman!” I said. “You two are going to get us fucking pinched. Try to calm down. We’ll be at the hotel soon. Then you can act as crazy as you want.” That was probably not the best thing to tell her because when we arrived at the hotel she decided to take her shoes off and run around the place. To the eyes that don’t know any better she looked like a child. She was running for God knows what reason around the escalators and the fountain that stood side by side in the center of the hotel lobby. As she approached me in near completion of her third lap, I called to her. “I’m going up to the bar, crazy! With or without you. You just keep running until you throw up and get us kicked out of the damned hotel!” She stopped and looked at me as if I had just insulted her horribly. At this time Ms. Molinoso and Roy walked in. Roy started to dance a ridiculous dance that he does where he keeps his hands at his sides and bobs his head from side to side while shuffling his feet. Olivia was delighted by this. She laughed out loud and then ran over and jumped on his back. Roy ran over to the elevator with her and pushed the call button with his forehead. I looked over at Ms. Molinoso and shrugged. She smirked and did the same. I picked up Olivia’ s shoes and got on the escalator. We reached the second floor at just about the same time they came out of the elevator. “Alright now,” I said. “Get down from there or they won’t serve us in here.” Olivia climbed down from Roy’s back and walked slowly over to my side like a child who had just been scolded for acting up in the department store.   “Here,” I said, handing her her shoes.  She put them on and we walked into the hotel bar and sat down. We ordered up some drinks. The girls sat and talked and Roy and I got into a doubles pool game with two college professors. Roy told them that he was a quantum physicist or some such nonsense. Roy fancies himself a scientist when he’s drunk. One night during the brief period that I was living in my car, Roy said I could spend the night at his place. He lived in the furnished basement of his parents house. I was sitting in the basement about to enjoy a taylor ham and cheese sandwich when Roy got into it with his mother. She told him that he would never be a scientist or a philosopher. Only instead of “philosopher”, she said “falafeler”. Roy took this opportunity to call her an idiot and dance around the kitchen screaming like an Arab and saying, “Look, Ma! I’m a fucking falafeler! I make the best fucking falafel!” After she kicked us out, we drove in our cars over to the J.J. Bidding’s parking lot, ate our sandwiches and eventually slept, parked side by side. Something we would later refer to as our two bedroom apartment. Roy wasn’t a scientist or a philosopher, but he was an intelligent guy. Unfortunately he dropped out of school in the 9th grade at the age of 16 (you do the math). The guy didn’t like school. He was a great athlete. His room was full of trophies. He loved science and music. Everything else he disregarded as useless. Can’t quite get to far in the scholastic system when all you want to do is play sports, do science and sing. The docs called it ADD, but then again don’t they always. In fairness, I think in Roy’s case it was probably true. After we beat the professors I gave the table to Roy to play one on one with who ever was next on the list. I wanted to sit at the bar and drink, spend some time with Olivia and sneak glances at Ms. Molinoso’s beautiful god damned tits. She was wearing a low cut black top, a dark skirt and what I believe girls call “slip ons”.  Her toes were freshly pedicured. I dreamed up terrible things to do to her while I downed my drinks. After a while, Roy joined us at the bar. We drank a couple of beers did a shot or two and decided to head up to the room. It was almost 2am and the bar was about to close. I still didn’t feel very drunk. Not nearly as drunk as I wanted to be.   Oh I almost forgot to mention. There were these 5 or 6 New Jersey meat head types playing darts. They were a bit drunk and weren’t very good. Every time one would miss the board or a dart would bounce off and hit the floor, Roy would laugh tauntingly at them. It was a mystery to me, why they didn’t try to bash our heads in. In any case, it was quite entertaining. Especially when Roy would mutter to himself, “Can’t play no fucking darts.” So yeah. We headed back to the room.  Not just because the bar would be closing soon, but because Roy had plans. Sometime during the night he got it in his head that we had a good chance of working out some kind of crazy sex party with the girls. I didn’t think he was too far off the mark. I felt like Ms. Molinoso was game. She was quite flirty with me and early in the night when Olivia was in the bathroom, Roy made one of his drunken comments. “I know what’s going on,” he said. “You don’t think I do but I do.” “What now, dick head?” I asked. “You,” he said pointing at Ms. Molinoso. “You want to hump Jay. It’s ok, though. A lot of girls do.” Instead of telling Roy that he was crazy or that what he was saying wasn’t true, she looked at me and then Roy and just shrugged and sipped her drink. Roy was quite amused by this and stumbled off to the juke box. I, of course, knew why he had said that. When both the girls were in the john, my suspicions were confirmed. “Hey man,” he said. “I don’t care if you want to fuck Ms. Molinoso. That’s cool with me, but you got to let me hump little fucking tinker bell pixie chick.” “Sure.” I said. “Why not. If you can make it happen be my guess. But she’s quite in love, bro. You may have a hard time getting her alone.” “Yeah,” he said thinking. Then. “A menagez four!” he exclaimed with child like excitement. “Oh Christ,” I responded. “What’s wrong with that?” he asked. I took a pull of my beer. “Nothing, man. Nothing at all. If you can make it happen, then I’m game. Liv doesn’t have much in the titty department so whatever gets me closer to playing on Ms. Molinoso’s bazoomba’s is fine by me.” We both laughed at this and clinked our glasses together. The girls were making their way back to the bar. Oddly enough the serious stoney looks on their faces had me thinking that they were having a similar conversation. Nah. Wishful thinking probably. Sure.