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Monday, December 6, 2010

Hey! You! Get Out of My Way! Part 15 Enter the 9th Circle

“How’s the freak show downstairs?” asks Don with a smile.  “Better looking than up here,” I say.  “I love my job” says Don with a laugh throwing a bottle in the garbage.  “Oh hey, take this to the table against the wall,” Don says handing me the now familiar sidecar.  I place it on my tray and head into the crowd.  I get felt up crossing the bar and I can’t tell who has grabbed what at this point.  I put the drink down in front of this old man and notice sitting in the back in the dark at this table is a young kid of about 15.  He has curly black hair, muscular build, gray muscle shirt and shorts.  I don’t see him as much first as I do smell him. 
This is my first meeting with a male prostitute that has been given the nickname “Stinky” by the bar staff.  Stinky has his arm around this old man’s shoulders and another one on his lap.  “Hey, you’re kinda cute,” says the old man through squinted eyes.  “How much for a dance?” he says lurching forward.  “Really,” I think to myself.  Does he think this is 1930’s Berlin?  
I am suddenly reminded of a Donna Summer song and want to tell him its ten cents a dance but I let it pass.  Stinky waves his hand at me and tells me to “move on.”  “Aren’t you fancy?” I mumble under my breath to Stinky.  Stinky shoots me daggers with his eyes.
I move back into the crowd and someone grabs my arm.  “I want a beer,” the man says to me.  “Ok,” I say squinting at the bar hoping to read the bar taps.  “What kind of beer do you have?” he asks looking right into my eyes.  “I’m not really sure?” I respond “’I’m new here”.  “Well can you go find out?” he says sounding slightly irritated and raising his voice.  “Of course, “I say using my best Snow White voice and head to the bar. 
In time I find out that this man is a regular in the bar and years later will be nominated for a Tony Award, but tonight he is on his best behavior and his anger medication seems to be working. 
I head to the bar and Don can see what table I just came from.  “Watch out for that one.” says Don swirling one finger counter clockwise around his ear.  “He wants to know what kind of beer we have,” I say.   “That one?” he’s here nightly “He knows what we have.”  I look back at the table; he is staring at the ceiling.  “Oh, ok,” I say.  “Would you like me to tell him that?” I say my voice dripping in sarcasm.  Don rolls his eyes and starts naming all the beers and I begin writing.  “Got it,” I yell and head back to the bar.  On my way there Scott pops up in front of me.
“I have something to tell you,” Scotts says and I lean in.  He proceeds to grab the back of my head and kisses me right on the mouth.  I try to pull back from him.  This is a little strange and I am completely uncomfortable but flattered.  I imagine what kind of life we will have on the run. 

Scott pulls back looks in my eyes and tells me that “I belong to him.”  With that he turns on his heel and saunters away.  Somehow I feel branded and a little tarnished.  I walk back to the table feeling a little dazed as well.
“What took you so long?” the Tony nominee to be asks.  Jesus, so many people to answer to, I am completely exhausted.  “Long beer list,” I say not missing a beat.  “Well good, because I now want something with Gin instead.”  “What kind of Gin do you have?” he says narrowing his eyes at me.  Resisting the urge to slap him across the head, I just wander away from the table and head back to the bar.
To be continued……………..
Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writting "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

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