Dirty Old Men [And Other Stories] (Zane Presents) (34 page)

Jason nodded and giggled like a girl. He couldn’t help himself.

Jazmine stood up and spotted his refrigerator in the corner of the large room.

“You have any Coke or Pepsi in that thing?”

“Pepsi,” he answered.

“Perfect. I’ll get you one, too. ’Cause after you drink it, and recuperate
for a minute, I want you to hit it from the back.” She made it sound as if they were about to take a basic walk in the park somewhere.

Jason was still tickled by it all. He grinned. “Okay.”

You’re the boss,
he told himself.
Or his wife,
he added. That thought made him smile even harder. And when Jazmine bent over the back of his sofa, less than thirty minutes later, he smiled the whole time, while she demanded him to fuck her harder. She was sick and tired of her old man’s bullshit. And so was Jason. So her wish was his command—
gladly.

SEAN ALSTON

You know, I usually don’t go out on these double-date deals. That’s not really my style. I’m more of a solo man who likes to work his own magic at his own pace with a woman. So going to The Revue in D.C.’s renovated U Street corridor with Alonzo and two new women was a little off the radar for me.

“Come on, S, it’ll be fun, man. Let’s do something different for a change. And I’ll let
you
choose the place.”

Everything “different” is fun for L, like all the different women he manages to date on any given weekend. But at least I got to choose where we went.

We arrived at The Revue a little late, after waiting for Alonzo and these two new women of his to find a parking spot. By the time they found one, it was after nine and the long line traveled down the sidewalk to the corner of Thirteenth Street.

Immediately, L began to complain about it. “Hey, S, you don’t know nobody up in here, man? I thought this was your regular spot. Let them know who you are?”

Letting people
know
who you are was what Alonzo Bradshaw was known for. His marketing company, A.B.C. Promotions, made sure of it. “A.B.C. you at the show,” was his tagline for everything. Although the line was definitely corny, it seemed to work, so he kept right on using it.

Anyway, I was busy trying to converse with the two young ladies he had invited out for the evening. To L’s credit, both women were on point; a nine and an eight. The only reason the eight had slipped a point was because of her black-and-gold, two-piece dress, which was a little too revealing in the cleavage department. The dress also had a long split right up the middle.

That was a little too much attention for me. She looked to be broadcasting
an open freeway between her legs. So I told myself that I’d let L handle her, while I dealt with her more tactful girlfriend in the peach wraparound. Their names were Catherine and Carol, respectively. And I was going for Carol.

I told L, “It’s all right, man. We get to stand out here and socialize before we get inside and get drowned out by the music.”

Catherine said, “Well, I need to get my drink on. And it’s a little chilly out here, too. Do they at least let you go in for the bar?”

I could understand her being chilly with the shit she had chosen to wear that night. She was letting the draft come through from the top
and
from the bottom of her two-piece.

“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?”