orangetoughguy | log post II

[More rare and more special. It's not those three words ("I love you") that took longer to say (than those other three words "I'm a cop") but it's there. It's apparent. The old man can see and hear it. Maybe it's because he's a seasoned, cock sure date all over.]

You got my number.

[Fine dining, brown sugar. Yep. The celebration keeps on going. Hopefully with less back pain in the morning. Then again Larry didn't tell the kid that he found a remote control Transformer car. Getting him something worked very well last time after Blonde visited. That's what? Three times now? It's still very unnerving.]

Everything seem normal at work?

867-5309 right?

[The kid can't help but laugh at such a predictable punchline but look the old man was asking for it okay? Oh hey breadsticks. He picks one up to crunch off the tip.]

Yeah, pretty normal, no visitors. [No Blonde.] Thor didn't stick around.

Should I change it?

[Now it's going to be stuck in his head. Fuck. Except he's laughing. Yeah, kid. He's laughing at that dumb joke because it's funny to him.]

Sorry. Bet that's a big disappointment.

[Yeah, Freddy. He's not stupid.]

That other guy too?

[The old bear pays attention.]

Naw it's easy to remember, got a nice ring to it.

[If he had a cigarette he'd be pointing it at the old man but this is a non-smoking restaurant so fff. The disappointment over Thor's departure is kind of big but not fatal. Freddy will live.]

It's okay, but he was so fucking cool man.

[Er...what other guy? Oh...that guy.] Nobody new stuck around.

[It fits so perfectly to the tune too. A throwaway hit that packs a punch. Freddy didn't even sing it and now it's stuck in his head for God's sake. The old man can deal though.]

So I noticed.

[Looking at the man across the table he smiles.]

I wouldn't have told you like that.

[That he's good looking. Though Freddy is. He's gotta know that right? It's unbelievable to see some smug ass motherfucker strut on in and be so clumsy over it.]

Told me what?

[Freddy asks like an oblivious kid or maybe he's just not sure what Larry's referring to with regards to that smug ass motherfucker. At least he wasn't a therapist...or was he? Freddy never dug deep enough to find out beyond he's a bird man. And unlike Thor, Reynold did not get to see Sam the toucan.]

That you're good lookin'.

[Already the old man surrenders himself to the fact that Thor and all those super hero types get him off in a way that is beyond normal people. It's not really a contest more as something he recognizes and accepts because that's Freddy for you.]

Can't think of his name right now.

[Sure isn't Toby Wong.]

[Thor, Tony, Steve, Reeds, the Storms, they just spark a boyhood imagination. He could always count on them to be his friends in school whenever he had none.]

Oh, yeah. That was kinda weird.

[Talkin' birds and what not with Saya's brother, he didn't know she had one, one in the city, one with a mouth like that. As for his name, Freddy shakes his head.]

I didn't get one outta him.

[Super friends like those never let you down. The Lone Ranger wouldn't do that either.]

Ballsy.

[As well as weird. Did the kid like it?]

Rey...Reynard? Reynold. That's what it is.

Beats me.

[Have a shrug for your troubles, Lawrence Dimick. Now Freddy's kind of just looking at him funny. Why does he want to know, jealous? He leans in, one brow quirked up.]

How come you know his name? [Toucan play at this game.]

[Here comes the wine. The glasses first then the bottle. Hold that thought, Freddy. One glass, two glasses.]

He was bothering me. Not the same way he was bothering you though.

[He lifts up his glass to look at the color of red against the light before taking a sip.]

[Freddy takes his glass.] You don't know that, maybe you didn't get the angle he was working at.

[The kid waves a hand because seriously who wouldn't hit on a smooth motherfucker like this old man? Just look at the way he drinks his wine, smooth as shit. He takes a sip himself, oh wait weren't they supposed to toast?]

[As long as there's still wine in a glass they can still toast.]

Or I'm not his type.

[Not like some floppy haired, soulful eyed sons of bitches.]

To a smart ass and this fucking life we lead.

What kind of type are you?

[He had to ask, sorry old man. But really, what kind huh? Oh okay he can take a break from being a smart ass to toast. Freddy raises his glass and clinks it against Larry's.]

Amen.

[Does this count as saying grace? He gives the old tough guy a soulful eyed son of a bitch smile before sipping.]

Experienced. [Older.] Classic. [Throwback.] Something like that.

[Clink of glass before another sip. What would he do without this smart ass?]

Sure not the same as you.

Like a 1950 Buick Roadmaster Convertible?

[Do you like the sound of that, Lawrence Dimick? Those words coming out of this smart ass mouth? Except he's not being such a smart ass about the car, it's a fucking classic.]

[Man on man. Larry loves it. The car. The man that knows the car.]

Exactly.

[And he'll take another sip savoring the flavor of the wine with this turn of conversation.]

Some people like to ride the hell out of those babies.

[Right?]

Oh yeah, with its top down and a hand on its shift.

[Another sip.] Filling up the backseat. A real fuckin' beauty.

[Worthy mechanic that Freddy is he is able to kick start an engine and keep it hot all through the dining experience.]

Great place, kid.

[The food, the ambiance, all up Larry's alley. Hopefully he had his own enjoyable dinner, right? Right? It wasn't all just to make the old man happy. He'd love for the kid to start on his own love of finer things but would never expect him to give up his sugar packed cereal.]

Thanks, I knew I picked right.

[The kid says with a dash of pride. The old man liked it, it made him happy, therefore he's happy too. On top of that the food itself was delicious and fair for the price point. He's got no complaints. They're on their way home now, a casual walk from where the cab dropped them off. Good halfway mark.]

That cookie shit was fucking amazing.

[Hey Freddy can't be refined all the time. His tie's also loose now.]

[That wildcat bearing arm swings over the kid's shoulder when the taxi rolls out of sight.]

Good, good shit.

[The other paw of his pats his stomach.]

Sure doesn't compare to a normal chocolate chip. Should be called something else.

[Pazookie perhaps? That's interesting enough. The evening is warm, not quite a heatwave. It's a great one for a walk.]

A cookie's a cookie.

[Freddy rationalizes with a shrug of those shoulders and the heavy arm draped across them.]

Good to know you liked it. [The kid underscores this with a pat to the old man's mid-section.]

Now I gotta walk it off.

[Which is exactly what they're doing. He eyes that hand at his belly. Boy all this high living he might have another spare tire. Though they sure get exercise too. Only time can tell.]

Well we [You.] can use the exercise.

[Another pat pat then he tucks his hands into his pockets, Larry's that is, only to pull out a pack of Chesterfields.]

Smoke?

[Like he needs to ask, but he's asking because the nicotine addiction really offsets the notion of exercise and Freddy knows it. After that he'll go for a Marlboro.]

[As long as he can keep up with this kid.]

Fucking mind reader.

[Larry cranes his neck for the Chesterfield put right between his lips.]

Every time I turn around you got a new super power.

[The cigarette bobs up and down as he talks. No, he's not a kiss ass. Not a chance. Just stating the obvious. Yep.]

So. Best of the weekend was that Thor guy.

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