HOPE FOR CHANGE... But Settle for a Bailout (28 page)

“For what? Remembering my name?” The server
bent forward and used a folded bar towel to wipe up a spot from the
table, smiling up to Ed and he looked deeply into her cleavage.

“I wanna keep buying, but I am gonna just go
for a soft drink next,” sail Ed.

The server smiled.

“We got Ralphie, so it’s not like...,” said
Larry.

“The limo’s nice,” said Ed, not breaking his
gaze from the server, “but I wanna appreciate what I’m seeing.” The
server smiled. “You got a Cactus Cooler?”

“Not sure,” said the server.

“Fresca?”

“Oh, you are old school,” she said. “I like
that.”

“Diet 7-Up?”

“Might, I’ll take a look,” she said, before
turning to Larry. “And you?”

“Diet Coke?”

“That we’ve got,” she said, walking off,
directly towards the bar.

“Like I say,” said Ed, “spreading capital is
an art, whether it’s a girly club or Hollywood or frickin’
Washington, D.C.” He leaned back. “You just gotta know how to
smile.”

Larry stared at Ed, expressionless.

The server returned with four cans on a
tray. “Isn’t that something,” she said. “We had ‘em all.”

“We’ll take ‘em all, but only if you’ll join
us for one.”

“Oh, I can’t,” said the server. “The girls
can, but not the bar staff. I’m strictly sales.” The server placed
the cans on the table and announced the fifteen dollar cost. Ed
handed another hundred and said to include another ten to the tip.
The server smiled, took a deep breath and appeared to purr as she
walked off.

Misty passed, waving. Ed smiled and Larry
weakly waved. The brunette passed, blowing a kiss. A redhead in
sheer lingerie approached the table with a referee, looked squarely
at Ed, placing her hands on her hips, and just stared. Ed slid down
in his chair, pulled a hundred from his shirt pocket, and pointed
to Larry. “Two for him, two for me and the rest for you,” said
Ed.

Four dances later, the redhead finished,
dropping onto Ed’s lap and leaning into his body so she could give
kiss his cheek. She stood, gave Larry a tiny kiss, smiled warmly,
waved and walked off with the ref.

“I know what you’re thinking,” said Ed.

“What?” said Larry.

Ed leaned towards Larry. “Yer thinking,
‘why’s it so easy for Ed? Is it just because he’s so goddamned
self-confident and good looking?’ Well, I’ll tell you, my friend,”
said Ed, “it’s because there is nothing to fucking lose.”

“Huh?” said Larry. “I’m not thinking that at
all.”

“But that’s the answer,” said Ed. “If you
have nothing to lose, there’s no reason to be uptight. And so you
got free money and the time won’t ever come back to you. So just
smile and go with it.” And that’s what Larry and Ed did, watching
the goings-on of the Peppermint Elephant with a smile as they each
emptied two cans of soda. As Ed drained the last of the Diet 7-Up
and set the can on the table, the server approached.

‘Get’cha something else?”

“What food you got?” asked Ed.

“Burger, dog, nachos, French dip, some other
stuff,” said the server.

“What’ta’u eat?” asked Ed.

“The roast beef’s good, but it’s $15 a
sandwich.”

“Gimme two, with extra meat and extra
juice,” said Ed, “and another Fresca. Larry?”

“I’ll have a sandwich, too.”

“Can someone deliver the third sandwich to
the white stretch Lincoln in the lot? With a coke,” Ed handed the
server another hundred. “Keep it open.”

Across the room, stepping to the center
stage, was an incredibly huge-breasted dancer with a mop of raven
black hair. “Put your hands together for our featured celebrity
dancer, De-CEM-ber.”

The workers in the orange vest began
chanting, “Sit-KO’s girl. Sit-KO’s girl...”

“Check your ATM receipts gentlemen, because
we are going to auction off half-an-hour in paradise… with
De-CEM-ber,” said the DJ.

“I didn’t know she worked at places like
this,” said Larry.

December, in a red bikini, gripped the pole
and twirled, as a referee stood motionless on stage. She picked up
a small handbag she had set on stage and walked into the audience,
with the referee. She worked the room, dancing virtually every
song. When she approached the workers, she looked up and her face
brightened. “Sweeties!”

The dark-haired giant who had gotten the
dance from the brunette dressed as a schoolgirl reached out to
December, pulling her to him. The ref blew a whistle, and December
yelled, “Let go, Sitko!” Several bouncers converged on the table.
The giant laughed and sat back, demonstrably raising his hands in
the air, as December, now accompanied by the ref and two enormous
men wearing “
SECURITY
” tee-shirts, moved
her towards the stage. She turned to look to Larry and Ed.

“Get ready, gentlemen,” said the DJ. “If you
haven’t taken a vacation this year, we’re about to offer you a trip
to paradise.... Half-an-hour in a luxury suite… with
De-CEM-berrrr.”

“Sit-KO’s girl. Sit-KO’s girl...” chanted
the workers.

“Looks like we have a chance to save a
friend,” said Ed. “It would be cruel to not win this one, don’t’cha
think?”

“Open yer wallets, gentlemen, because we are
starting the bidding at… five
hundred
dollars,” said the DJ,
as December reached the stage with the ref and security. She put
her hand over her eyes as a visor, looking out towards Ed and
Larry.

“Five hundred,” yelled Sitko.

“Five fifty,” yelled a businessman in a gray
suit, near the stage.

“Six hundred,” yelled Sitko.

“Seven,” yelled the businessman.

“Seven-fifty,” yelled Sitko.

“Just $800 to spend half-an-hour in heaven,”
said the DJ. “Do we have eight hundred?”

“Eight hundred,” yelled a Hispanic man,
sitting in a group of men wearing birthday hats.

“Eight-twenty-five,” yelled Sitko.

“We have eight-twenty-five,
eight-twenty-five, going once; eight-twenty-five going
twice...”

“A thousand,” yelled Ed. On stage, December
let out a hoot.

“A
thousand
dollars,” repeated the
DJ. “Gentleman, half-an-hour with our celebrity dancer, Miss
De-CEM- ber… Do I hear ten-fifty?”

“Eleven hundred,” yelled Sitko, turning
around and glaring at Ed.

“Fifteen hundred,” yelled Ed.

Sitko stood abruptly and was swiftly circled
by three brawny men in “
SECURITY
”
tee-shirts. He sat back down and whispered back and forth quickly
with the other workers.

“Sixteen hundred,” yelled Sitko.

“Two thousand,” yelled Ed.

“Two
thousand
dollars for a trip to
heaven,” said the DJ. “Do we have twenty-fifty?”

Sitko alternately glared at Ed, talked with
the men at his table and looked up to the stage. “Twenty-five
hundred dollars!” yelled Sitko.

“Twenty-six,” yelled Ed.

“Twenty-seven,” yelled Sitko.

“Five thousand!” yelled Larry. Both Ed and
Sitko turned to stare at Larry.

“I think we have a ticket to heaven,” said
the DJ. “Five...
thousand
... dollars. Five thousand, going
once….”

Sitko glared at Larry and Ed and kept his
hand down.

“Five thousand, going twice.” On-stage,
December hopped up and down and clapped. “Gentlemen, five thousand
dollars… sold! One ticket to paradise.” The ref and security walked
a smiling December back towards Larry and Ed.

“Hundred dollar dance?” Sitko asked the ref
as they passed.

The ref looked to December, who sneered.

“We’re done, Sitko,” said December.

“C’mon, baby,” said Sitko. “Don’t’cha miss
Mr. Magnum?”

“Fuck yerself,” said December, as she passed
Sitko’s table. “Oh! Hunny!” she squealed as she arrived next to
Larry, who let loose with a feeble wave.

“Hey there, beautiful woman,” said Ed,
smiling broadly.

December reached for Ed and Larry’s hands
and pulled the two toward a luxury box. Inside, the referee
unzipped his pouch and put out a hand, expectantly. Ed reached into
the inner pocket of his coat and produced a bundle of hundred
dollar bills. He counted off fifty, which the ref counted twice and
looked at several of the bills in the dim light, before sliding the
bills into the pouch.

“Who’s the asshole?” asked Ed.

“Oh,” said December, “just... someone.”
December leaned down and held Larry’s face in both her hands,
kissing him repeatedly on each cheek, and straddling his lap so her
knees dug into the vinyl cushion and her body pressed into his.
“Thank you, hunny,” she whispered into his ear.

Larry put his hands on December’s hips and
was swatted by the referee. He pulled his hands back and put them
on the seat, just inches from her legs. December made no effort to
keep her own body from mashing into Larry.

“You don’t have to…,” said Larry. “I don’t
want you to....”

December wetly kissed Larry and whispered,
“This is how I pay the bills, hunny…. It’s okay.” She stood,
angling her body so her chest was inches from his face. She slowly
lowered the clingy fabric of her swimsuit top, causing her breasts
to spill out, like a flood.

Larry looked up to December, who smiled
sweetly, and repeated the move over and over, gently swinging her
breasts back and forth inches from his face, then shaking them up
and down, causing them to slap into his face.

“Is that the guy who hurt you the other
night?” asked Ed.

“We used to date,” said December, slipping
her breasts back in to her top. “But that’s over.”

“Obviously, he doesn’t think so,” said
Ed.

“Well, I think so, and so it is,” said
December, running her hands tenderly over Larry’s face, as he
closed his eyes.

“Is he messing with you?” asked Ed.

December, now sitting on Larry’s lap,
leaning into his chest and running a hand along his neck and jaw,
looked to Ed and scowled. “C’mon, Ed,” said December.

The remainder of Larry’s trip to paradise
passed with few words.

December stood over him, as he sat immobile,
in a trance, until, with a tap by the referee on her shoulder,
December leaned forward, wrapped her arms tightly around Larry, and
kissed him several times on the cheek. “Thank you, hunny.”

Ed – following Larry and December – leaned
to the ref, as they opened the luxury box door. “Think we can get
an escort out to the car?” said Ed.

The ref nodded, as they all exited the box
and closed the door behind them. Seconds later, six huge men in
orange reflector vests circled Ed, Larry, December and the ref.

“Leave me alone, Sitko,” yelled
December.

The ref raised the whistle to his lips, got
off a short, shrill blast and, as quickly, a hand snatched it away,
snapping the chain that held it around his neck.

“We’re not done, bitch,” growled Sitko,
grabbing December by the arm.

“Hey!” yelled Larry.

“Shad’ up,” said one of the workers.

“Let go!” screamed December, as whistles
shrieked and a sea of black-shirted, barrel-chested men converged
on the circle, pulling December free and hustling her away. Larry
and Ed were shoved back into the luxury box by the bouncer who had
been with December, while, through the smoked glass, they watched
as two bouncers grabbed Sitko’s arms, while a third got inches from
his face and was clearly yelling. The workers were shoved towards
the main stage, away from the luxury boxes.

“Okay,” said the bouncer with Ed and Larry,
“lets go.” Less then a minute later, they were jogging up to the
Lincoln. Ralphie stepped out of the driver’s cabin and opened the
back door. Larry and Ed tumbled into the passenger’s cabin. Ralphie
slammed the door and got into the front.

Ed knocked on the glass separating the
compartments. “Ralphie, we’re staying for awhile. Gonna wait for
someone.”

“That’s fine, gentlemen,” said Ralphie.
“Thank you for the sandwich, earlier.”

“Oh, good, glad you got it.”

“The waitress who carried it out left this
for you, Ed,” said Ralphie, handing a slip of paper.

“Thanks for being such a nice guy,” read the
note. It was signed Carole, with a phone number.

“Thirty-ish brunette?” asked Ed.

“Yes,” said Ralphie.

“Perfect,” said Ed, reaching for his phone.
He looked at the slip of paper and composed a text.

“GOT UR NOTE. THANKS. FRIEND N ME R IN
LINCOLN, IF UR FREE. — ED.”

Larry dialed December’s number, which went
to voicemail, “Um, hi December, it’s, uh, Larry. Me and Ed are in
Ralphie’s car, outside.... We can we drive you home. You don’t have
to be in there. If it’s to make money for bills, I can pay them.
I’ll even pay you to dance, if you really wanna do that, but I
don’t want you to have to do that in there, I mean, if you don’t
want to. Um, w’ull, okay. Bye.”

Ed opened the mini-fridge, producing a can
of Cactus Cooler. “Friend, you’ve got a little bit to learn,” said
Ed. “The timing on your bid could’a been better.”

“Timing’s not my strength,” said Larry.

Both Larry and Ed’s phones beeped.

“OFF IN 20 MIN. PLEASE WAIT 4 ME,” texted
Carole.

“DONE IN 20
,”
texted December. “
DON’T GO
.”

“Ralphie, could you pull up to the security
team up there?” asked Ed.

Ed rolled down the passenger’s window, as
the Lincoln drew up to the security detail. “Evening, gentlemen,”
said Ed. The two men looked into to the window. “We’re gonna be
over there for a bit, but could we stay under your watchful eye, in
case anyone from inside gets rumbly?” Ed reached into his pocket
and handed four twenty dollar bills through the window. “There’s
some dudes in orange vests who wanna fight, and I’m sure you don’t
want that on your property.”

The security guards each took two bills. “No
problem.”

Ralphie returned the Lincoln to the spot
they had been in and shut off the engine. Ed tuned in a jazz
station and sipped soda. Larry sorted through the cans, pulling out
a ginger ale.