8 Balls and the House on Dana Part 1

Kim pushes her way through the bar patrons who barely notice her doing this. I try to follow at the pace that she has set, but I am to slow. I get stuck behind a man with a giant cowboy hat and a pair of chaps, whose beer lightly splashes out of his glass when I walk into him. Kim reaches around this cowboy, grabs my wrist in her hand and pulls me to her.

Kim then walks right up to the bar and squeezes between two guys sitting on bar stools having a conversation. Kim literally takes one of the bar stools and slides it and the patron to one side. The patron doesn’t seem to care and starts a conversation with the guy now to his left. Kim signals the bartender who walks over wiping his hand on a towel, a big smile on his face.

Kim is out of breath as she introduces me to the bartender. “Jackie this is Geoff,” she says presenting me with a flourish. Then presents again, “Geoff this is Jackie!” Kim has a frozen smile on her face. Jackie extends his hand to me. “Well hello Geoff, Kim has told me so much about you.” A twinkle crosses his eye as he shakes my hand. Jackie is the spitting image of a twenty six year old Mick Jagger. “Can I get you a drink?” Jackie asks me a smile crossing his face. I order a vodka soda as I look over at Kim who now is holding the chain around her neck between two pinched fingers; she nervously slides the chain back and forth and then touches it to her lips. Jackie grabs a glass dumps ice in it and reaches for a bottle of vodka. “Lime?” he asks. I look at him and nod my head. I look back over at Kim who now has her chain in her mouth. Her eyes dart between me and Jackie. I can tell she hopes that we like each other and that we will get along.

As Jackie places the drink in front of me another bartender comes from further down the bar and throws his arms around Jackie literally knocking him off balance. Jackie is briefly confused but smiles when he realizes what has happened. “Hi, I’m Billy and I’m Jackie’s boyfriend,” this bartender says not extending his hand to me. Billy has long brown hair that is feathered back away from his face. He looks a good five years younger than Jackie is and a whole lot more animated. Both of them are wearing white sleeveless t-shirts, tight blue jeans and both sport long handled combs in their back pockets.

“Hi, I’m Geoff,” I say extending my hand. Billy doesn’t reach for my hand but seems to squeeze Jackie just a little harder. I look at Kim who meets my eyes and rolls hers towards the ceiling. It is so fast that only I catch it. It’s clear that Billy is marking his territory.

Jackie gently slides out of Billy’s grip and turns towards the bar. “Michael!” he screams “Come meet Kim’s new friend Geoff!” 

Michael is sitting at a slight diagonal from me and stands on the bar rail reaching his arm out towards me. I can smell the booze roll off Michael in a wave, he is afraid to leave his stool in fear that he might lose it. “Hi Geoff!” he screams, our fingers barely touch. I turn to Kim again to get her take on Michael. It’s clear that she has a soft spot in her heart for him.

“Let’s Stay Together” by Tina Turner blasts out the speakers and people run to the dance floor.

To be continued………

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

The Devil You Know Part 17

David and I discuss the move to Kim’s and think that it is a great idea. Anne is over the moon that I am leaving that she sarcastically says and waves “Bye Bye” to me, when I tell her. I restrain myself from punching her in the head and actually count to ten out loud.

David and I have a great relationship and agree that this should make it stronger. That night, Kim asks me to meet at 8 Balls at around 11pm because all her roommates will be there. This will be the first time that I get to meet them all at the same time.

8 Balls is located on Central Ave about 10 blocks up from Lark Street. The front of the club is as low key as you get. There is a painting of an 8 Ball on a sign. The glass on the front of the bar is black and you can’t seen into the bar, once inside, you can only see out.  

I grab the handle on the outside door and pull. Miss Kenny, a nine foot tall African American drag queen who looks like Tyra Banks, is wearing a tight tan catsuit with a pony tail pulled high on her head, is blocking the second doorway into the club with her body. She stops me and asks for id. It doesn’t matter that she sees me all the time and knows my name, he still asks for it. I pull my id out of my pocket and hand it to her. 

Miss Kenny pauses with my id in her hand, and then she clicks on her flashlight to get an even better look at my picture. “Oh girl, you are Kim’s new boyfriend, does she know that you are gay?” she says with a sneer. “I’m not Kim’s new boyfriend.” I say trying to retrieve my id that Miss Kenny is holding in my face. Miss Kenny quickly pulls her hand back “To each, their own,” she says and shoos me out of the doorway with the back of her hand.

As I enter the bar I can see that it is already packed at least three people deep around the bar. The bar is a big square that sits in the front and center of the room. I can barely see the heads of the bartenders as they work. The bouncer tonight is sitting on the inside of the bar near the window. He is a big fat guy who sits with an unlit cigar hanging out of his mouth, the place is packed and yet I can hear him snoring.

There are additional bar tables and stools lining each side of the club. Towards the back of the club and on the left hand side of the room is a glass enclosed DJ booth. The DJ Booth sits on a plexiglass dance floor that lights change with the beats of the music. The DJ tonight is the owner David, he barely looks up from his turntable. Directly across from the DJ Booth are two bathrooms neither one has a sign so they both get used for the Men’s room and to do various drugs. Someone is clearly smoking a joint somewhere.

Kim zips by me carrying a bucket of ice by the handle. She is so short that the bucket keeps hitting the floor, causing the ice to jump out of it. She hurries by me and purposely bumps me with her hip. She pauses about three feet away from me and turns and smiles in my direction. ‘Are you ready?” she asks me. 

Tonight, Kim outlines her eyes in liquid mascara and pulls the line out as far as possible, giving that “cat look” to her eyes. Around her neck is a purple bandana that sits on top of her leopard print long sleeve shirt. Her pants are tight and black; she has slipped her pant legs into black boots that come up mid shin. Kim looks amazing. Her hair is short in the front and long in the back. The colors represented, are orange, black, white and purple.

She motions with her head for me to follow her up to the bar.

To be continued…..

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

The Devil You Know Part 16

The bell tinkles as the door swings closed behind me. At the counter is a punky looking boy with jet black hair and a black and white stripped t-shirt. He is reading a newspaper that is opened and in front of him. He doesn’t respond or look up to the sound of the bell but yells out “Let me know if you need help with something.”

The store has that overpowering smell of antique and used clothing. I walk past a rolling rack of old furs and hats and make a beeline for the guy at the counter. “Hello,” I say standing directly in front of him. Quickly I  blurt out “Do you buy antique clothing or do people donate the clothes to you?” 

He places his finger on the paper to hold his place in the story he is reading and looks up. “You got something to sell?” he asks raising one eyebrow. “No, but I’m interested in the smoking jackets in the front window.” “Yeah, there nice aren’t they?” he says returning to his place in the paper. “Where did you get them?” I ask and his finger returns to the paper and he looks up. “Dunno,” he says and returns to reading. “Are you the manager?” I ask. His finger returns to the paper, he looks up this time clearly annoyed. “Nope.” He says and returns to reading. “Will the manager be here soon?” I ask. This time he doesn’t look up. “Is there something you need help with?” he asks. I blurt out my whole story.

“My roommate and I went our separate ways and he told me that he threw out all my clothes and now I see my smoking jackets hanging in your window.” He now pauses and looks up at me. “Do you have a receipt that says they are yours?” “I do not.” I respond. He sighs; clearly over my line of questioning “Well the manager will be here in about three hours, you can stop back in here then.” “I have to warn you though, she will ask you the same question.”

It is clear that I am chasing my own tail and I need to let it go.

“Ok thanks,” I say turning on my heel, I head towards the door. “Uh-huh,” is his response. “Let it go,” I say as I walk back onto the street “Let it go.” The bell tingles as the door shuts behind me.

Time passes with David and it’s clear that Anne and I have nothing but contempt for each other. She goes out of her way to constantly tell David how much she doesn’t like me and doesn’t trust me, after awhile it starts to add pressure and stress to our relationship. David and I discuss my moving out and finding a new apartment. That way we can work on us. David never seems to be able to tell me why Anne is so important to him. She brings nothing to the table that I can see. David lost his mother as a child and it’s the only concrete thing I can get out of him when talking about Anne. My feeling is that Anne is a big girl and she should move out.

Kim at The Half moon Café tells me that I should live with her. Her apartment is six bedrooms, a full kitchen, full bath, dining room and a living room. She and I can share her room, its big enough for two, so after work, I decide to stop by and take a look.

The apartment is located half way up the block on Dana and close to Lark Street. It is a two floor house, Kim and her roommates have the top floor and someone named Ingrid owns the bottom floor with her three children. Kim’s apartment is huge but she asks me to be quiet because her roommates are all sleeping. “They work at The 8 Balls Saloon on Western Avenue.”

8 Balls as it is affectionately known is a seedy gay bar where you can find anything that you might need. An Evil Drag Queen named Miss Kenny holds court at the door and looks at ids.  If you are cute and flatter her, you’re in. If, you’re not or you piss her off God help you. I once saw Miss Kenny get hit in the nose with a beer bottle by a biker and Miss Kenny, face covered in blood picked up anything she could find to smash over his head after she knocked him out with a punch to the face. It took five men to pull her off after the guy was clearly out cold.

Kim gives me a whole tour of the house and I love it, I ask to use the bathroom and lock the door behind me. I look in the mirror and as I splash water on my face as a cockroach brazenly walks out of the medicine cabinet, then another and another. I look around the bathroom and there are a couple more cockroaches hanging out on the ceiling. 

I quickly leave the bathroom and find Kim in the kitchen making a grilled cheese. The smell of the melting cheese seems to bring at first a couple of cockroaches onto the counter. Kim takes the spatula and swats at them, they scatter and then return. “These fuckers are brazen, “Kim says swatting at them again. They run and return and I spot a couple running on the ceiling. “Uh, we got a roach problem,” Kim says as she places her sandwich on a plate and heads for the fridge. Several cockroaches make a run for the sandwich on the counter but after grabbing a soda Kim beats them to it.

To be continued…..

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

The Devil You Know Part 15

For the next three or four days, David and I reach out to Tommy and Roy. They can’t believe what has happened, but make it clear that they really don’t want to get involved. In reality they are just the landlords and think the dispute should be handled between Bill M. and myself. Roy tells me that he will vouch for me if this ever goes to court, but thinks that it is best to just walk away and forget it. 

I wonder if Bill M. has something that he is holding over their heads.

The biggest problem is that I have no money and can’t afford a lawyer to take Bill M. to court. I have no receipts for any of the rent or utilities, so it would boil down to my word against his. David and I even try to get help from the Albany Police department who tell us the same thing “Let it go.” So we do.

I only have the clothes on my back that I had been wearing; everything else is gone. The Nine poster that Sue and I took in New York City is gone as well. I have nothing and I mean nothing. David lets me wear whatever I can find in his closest. The problem is that David is bigger than me; I have a hard time finding anything that fits. David has an idea to take me clothes shopping but I don’t have the budget to buy anything new, so we make a trip to The Salvation Army.

I break down into tears several times while going through the racks and try to hide it from David. He pretends not to notice but asks me if “I am ok?” There are several people who are shopping in there because it is cool to buy Vintage. The “Punk Scene” in Albany is huge and the Salvation Army is the place to go to find clothes for it. We end up getting several bags of clothes and shoes for about $36.00. It is pretty apparent that I bought the clothes to survive and not for the style, even though I was starting to adopt the “Punk Look” myself.

In the weeks that follow I get a job working the counter at The Half Moon Café. The Half Moon Café is a health food restaurant located at the bottom of the hill on Madison Avenue. The main room on the ground floor is split into two rooms with a back patio that has a great screen door and a picnic table.

In the main room is where we prepare the food and serve the customers. The second room has several tables and nightly serves a different function. One night the room is for poetry readings, the next night is for new bands, the third night serves as a Lesbian AA meeting place. Every day the most eclectic people will walk through the door and want either a Kefir shake or a tofu stir fry. It is a CO-OP restaurant so it is owned by several of the people who work in the restaurant.

There is a hippie dippy vibe going from the main owners but almost everyone working there has giant hair, piercings, tattoos and smoke like chimneys. There are three main owners, Tommy, Jim and Jody. Tommy loves to talk about the value of having a compost shed in his backyard. It is also clear that he drives Jim and Jody nuts and tends to do things without passing it by them. In the beginning I work only three shifts but pick up anything I can get my hands on.

One of the girls who works there and I start to work every shift together and find that we enjoy each other’s company. She is about 4’10, her hair is orange and short in the front and long in the back. People scream out “Hey Cyndi Lauper,” wherever she goes. Her name is Kim and every day she wears something that has a leopard skin print, tight pants and lots of Madonna bracelets. We become fast friends and share the fact that health food grosses us out, so when we work together one of us runs out to Big Dom’s subs and buys a roast beef sandwich that we hide and eat under the counter.

One day on my way down Lark Street, I notice that hanging in the window of an antique clothing store are two smoking jackets. I stop and take a closer look. I realize that these are mine; they had been given to me as a gift from The Albany Civic Theatre when I was done with Heaven Can Wait. They were in the apartment that Bill M. said he threw out.

I don’t even hesitate a moment and walk into the store.

To be continued…..

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.