orangetoughguy | log post II

[Already Freddy's thinking he's doing a shit job because he's gesturing for a lovely woman to shake his fucking hand. Look things weren't all that different before he fell for Mr. White okay? At least her gigawatt smile doesn't blind the kid.]

Oh yeah. I got my reasons.

[These green eyes are smiling without even having to show any teeth. And for emphasis, he gives that woman, all curves and oozing buxom brunette, a look over from head to toe and back up again.]

[Erin is enchanted by green eyes. Larry clears his throat. He moves past both of them to the table, trying to play it off like no thing at all, because it is.]

Still workin', honey? [The old man keeps it light, suggesting. Ahaha. That snaps her out of it. Hand disengaged, but the mood isn't dampened.]

Yeah. Boy, I thought we were gonna try and do this much later. Some people can't fucking wait. [Both hands on her cigarette tray. She sighs and gives White a nudge.] Keep him occupied for me, will ya?

[Really? Shit, he must have stepped on a crack or who knows what.]

Can't promise that. He's got a mind of his own.

Trust me you don't need the insurance.

[Of needing White to make Orange stay. That much is a given but Erin doesn't need to know that. Freddy gives her a wink of that apparently enchanting green eye and even trades money and tip for a pack of smokes. His current one is half empty anyway.]

Right. [She's going. Going. Gone. Larry stops noshing and looks at the kid. Even though he'd like nothing better than to get the fuck home, the best part is right here charming the shit out of a woman who won't get to know how great he is.]

What'll you be drinking?

[Sometimes Freddy's too dumb to realize when he's done something right and sometimes Freddy does realize it then starts looking smug as fuck. At this moment it's the latter.]

Surprise me.

[He says around a taquito before crunching down.]

[Larry loves him dumb or smug.]

This-away.

[He points then walks.]

There's some good, good shit on tap. Stuff you'd never heard of. There's this Dark Lord stuff, it's like liquid candy.

[Back into motion, back into them. Focus like this keeps the old man safe. There still are people around in that specific frenzy.]

Have a seat on the bar.

[The 'tender isn't to be found but the old man is going behind it.]

"Dark Lord"? What the hell is that.

[Freddy asks, obviously interested because it makes him think of a goldschlager novelty only instead of gold leaves it's six-sided die, or a led Zeppelin label. Ahem. He's following away with a smile regardless and upon Larry's suggestion, the kid actually gets on the bar to sit on the edge. Hey everyone else is fucking around he may as well have fun too.]

I'll show you.

[Clink for a clean glass on the counter top a moment. Larry examines it to make sure it meets his standard then takes it to the tap to pour at an angle.]

If y'don't like it you don't have to drink it all.

[Clink for another glass, this one is for the old man.]

[Freddy watches the way he pours, the color and froth. It's called Dark Lord but it's not exploding in fireballs or green smoke or anything like one would expect a Dark Lord to do. Very strange. By name alone he thinks it could be made of deer's blood.]

Okay. Do I gotta tip ya?

[He even sets down a cork coaster before presenting the other man with the glass.]

Woah, I thought I was talking with Orange not Pink.

[There's a wink for you kid.]

[What. He makes a kind of twisted quirking expression because being compared at all gives him the heebie jeebies.]

I was gonna ask what kind of tip you'd want but fuck that.

[Freddy says with a poker face while lighting another cigarette, however there's a joking smile behind it, which he promptly hides by raising the glass to his lips.]

[Larry laughs a little, not a full blown knee slapper. He feels at ease enough to laugh.]

Woah. Are you saying your not gonna tip me at fuckin' all?

[Which he doesn't believe for a second. A hard stare a moment longer before he takes a drink on his own.]

It's hard to make ends meet. Fuck.

[Wow. The Dark Lord has a powerful flavor to him. Freddy has to take a moment to swallow. He's savoring the flavor okay? As for tipping, he sets the glass on the bartop and reclaims his cigarette.]

Convince me.

[Now there's a challenge. How can Lawrence Dimick convince Freddy Newendyke to tip him without the removal of his clothes? It's a good way to distract White, he thinks. Over at the pool table there's another girl taking a bump with a laugh and a smile but she looks like she's been sick for years.]

[The old bear's ears perk at the laughter but he doesn't look away.]

I take a lotta pride in what I do. I offered you the best I got in the house didn't I?

[Larry didn't say anything about the beer being the best, it could be all part of the convincing but he leans forward both palms on the bar as a real 'tender would.]

You got my undivided attention don't you? And some damn good bar food.

[....because it's being devoured at the bar.]

You're a bartender, ain't you supposed to talk to me and tell me stories or listen to my problems?

[Freddy asks, again quirking his brow to look like Larry ought to know better, as part of the charade.] Fillin' me up, that's one thing. Now you gotta entertain my mind.

[He points at his own head, the type filled with superheros and great adventures on bicycles.]

Oh sure, I gotta do that. [He loosens his tie and starts to clean a glass that's already clean with a napkin to play the part right.]

Fillin' the likes of you up is what I do.

[His eyes are down at the counter. Freddy can decide whatever it is that he means.]

Think this party is wild? There was a bachelorette party down here about two or three weeks ago.

I've been filled up a lot before. I'll be the judge of how different you do it.

[Toucan play at that game. He takes another sip, cigarette down, another bite. That plate is getting empty fast.]

Oh yeah? Here? What'd they come for. [He imagines the staff, just like the big old bear of a man he's looking at.]

It's not about how different, I think. It's about how right.

[It's a favorite game that a man can play with full concentration.]

Oh, the bride's last night out. Her girlfriends wanted to have it be memorable. The drinks started flowing and people got up and danced on chairs and the bar. It was hard to handle. They're only women in their tight short dresses and heels right?

[He's waiting for an answer there. The pause allows him to take a drink. Either against his will or because of the tilt of his head he looks toward the pool table. Two more seconds and he's back, and yes he is listening.]

[On the chairs and bar just like this kid here? He's still on the bar with his feet on a stool. Essentially this makes it seem like his back is to the old man but Freddy's twisting enough to look at Larry. This affords him both his attention on White and a general awareness of what's going on in this party.]

Uh huh. Okay. A couple chicks living it up and not giving a damn. How's that wild?

[Like that girl over there who's slowly losing her top. Right. Freddy does take a drink himself and a puff of smoke.]

Except they weren't. Before I know it, before anyone knows it, turns into a fucking playgirl club. It was like someone had alerted the male nudity police telling em they got a job to do. The girlfriends must have had a group discount or something but there was one for every girl, a baker's dozen.

[Bullshit, it's all bullshit. Larry just keeps on talking. The thread is spinning in his brain and getting more elaborate and flimsy like a spider's web. Surely, the kid has to know.]

Wherever they got these fellas from didn't have much food or something, they were lean. Probably strapped for cash like myself [Reminding the kid. Larry takes a sip] because they were ready to take it all off except for this piss poor excuse for underwear. Ridiculous.

............

[He's listening. Freddy's really listening. Oh he doubts the validity with ease but he can't just drop the game either. The way Larry is going on he finds the old man clever for veiling such a subject. Another crunch of a taquito and he starts talking with his mouth full.]

That's bullshit.

[Chew chew chew.]

Everybody knows guys like that don't even wear underwear. [A subtle smile pulls at the corner of his mouth.] So did you join in?

I'm only tellin' you what I saw. Not like those things stayed on long. It was like some shrink wrapped knockwurst or some shit.

[Larry shrugs as though it's nothing.]

Me? Join in? I had to put up with it make sure no body chipped no teeth, that nothing indecent was going on right out in the open. There were other paying patrons around watching even though the gogo dancers or whatever the fuck were for the ladies only. Other eyes were on em, you know. Probably dreaming up some depraved things.

[That they do on average. The old man finishes up and now cleans his own glass.]

Would you have? Uninvited?

[Like Old Wisconsin meat. He takes another gulp of beer to wash down the good stuff.]

So you were watchin' pretty closely.

[Freddy says, lowering his voice just a little even though the boisterous party behind them is fairly deaf to their conversation.] What are you some kinda mind reader? I was talking about getting up and dancing, shit tips pretty well.

I had to. Gotta know the crowd as much as possible.

[Seemingly simple answer to anybody that's passing by. How much longer do they gotta be here?]

It helps when you're a slim, young thing. I think I'm an acquired taste, not one of those greased, hairless things.

Are you kidding me? Erin over there seems to think pretty differently.

[Freddy says in more hushed tones, like he's whispering a secret to Larry.]

And I dunno man, I'm kinda spotty. [He means freckled.]

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