orangetoughguy | log post II

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.]

Spotty? Who the fuck cares. That's what you call real. People waste their whole damn lives going after fantasy when reality is what you want.

[It's what Larry wants.]

So anyway. There I was, staying on the outside watching a proverbial orgy goin' on.

Don't say it so loud. I know you like keepin' yourself in good graces with gals.

[He tips his head, sipping again, before 'raising his mug' to point out such a gal. Her tits, large and juicy they may appear to be, are hard to touch. They're holding up that party dress pretty well though. Kind of.]

Uh huh. [The kid licks his lips free of beer. Yep, cause that's all it was. Right.] Then?

[He likes to keep himself in good graces because he finds himself still liking gals like that. Even knowing that her tits are as real as the Easter bunny.]

I like what I like. ...and that's kinda the problem. Things were getting hot and heavy, so the burden fell on me to in form the party. I started with turning down the music taking the indirect approach, ain't no body likes a kill joy. No luck there.

[Brown eyes zero in on Freddy's mouth and that lick for beer.]

So I gotta personally move about the room up close and personal.

[Oh and doesn't he fucking know it. But what those girls don't know is he's also fucking getting it. Pretty often too. It's enough to make them tolerable, if Orange is ever thinking about them like that in the first place.]

How close?

[Freddy figures he's getting to that part of the story. Now his own Dark Lord is gone and it looks like he took those finger foods with him. That leaves the kid's undivided attention all on the old man.]

Even with the music almost off, I gotta come near and whisper maybe even try and put my hand someplace appropriate to say you can't be doing that here.

[That Dark Lord will need to be filled. A good bartender would do it right now with out being asked. Larry's not that good. He's fighting for his tip right now. Doing what he should isn't enough. And the kid has got to escort Miss Christie Love and his old ass home.]

Appropriate? At that kind of party? No fuckin' way.

[Says the doubting doubter who puts his glass a little closer to the tender's side as some kind of hint. Yep. A hint.]

Were they oiled up? Could you feel it?

A guy does what he can. [He shrugs, it ain't no thing. Guess that means there will be more Dark Lord for this man. Larry takes the glass and fills it up to the brim.]

You bet. A strong shoulder slick to the touch. And talk about warm, the place was hotter than hell with the A/C cranked.

[Freddy nods again, this time in thanks for the goods. Before he takes a sip though he reaches out to clap a hand on Larry's broad shoulder.]

Was it hard?

[To the touch or to deal with? Anyone who isn't them wouldn't get much of an idea on ambiguity.]

Oh it was. Definitely was.

[Have a genuine gigawatt smile, kid. Uh oh. Someone is coming on over. It's a lanky man with short dreadlocks.]

White, my man with the plan! You forgot your party favor.

[He plops a hand on the bar near one of the old man's paws.]

Thank me later. I gotta scoot. Things to do, places to go. People to do.

[He gives Freddy a wink.]

[.......On the inside Freddy's not sure what to say to this other guy. He's mostly interested in what the man just left on the table. On the outside he gives a smirk for the remark, the kind that says "Don't I know it. Sitting right here on my dick is where it's at for any girl's ass." Uh huh.]

You're popular.

[This he says to Larry and only after the other guy's gone.]

I know them, they know me.

[He waits and stares at the other man until he's sure he's gone before pulling his hand away as if it were burned.

There's a little bag right there on the table filled with white powder. The benefactor left a rolled up 20 in there too. A perfect little kit sitting right fucking there. Damn.]

Thought I was off the hook. I left that at the pool table. Shouldn't someone have just picked that shit up?

[Honesty among thieves isn't always a good thing.]

Thanks. I owe you one.

[Freddy says in the most casual way possible before he takes the bag and puts it in his own pocket. Nothing doing. That's the end of it. He's fairly sure Larry isn't going to make a scene about it (if he knows what's good for him. Another sip of Dark Lord goes here.]

Are you gonna invite me to the next party?

[Time slows up and brown eyes watch the cursed package disappear into those freckled fingers. His gaze moves up to the man's face. Is the kid disgusted? It's Freddy's. Larry's trying to convince himself right now that he doesn't want it. It isn't worth it. Why do they have to put that goddamn coke in front of his nose?]

You're welcome.

[No scene here. The music and sound of the party comes filtering right on in and he can see the whole picture.]

Of course. Unless I don't have to come.

[He looks down to fiddle for a cigarette.

[He's not disgusted per se, he just knows temptation when he sees it and Larry's tempted by proximity. Can Freddy blame him? What would he do if someone left their first issue of The Incredible Hulk on the bar? He'd be tempted too. Okay comics and crack aren't exactly the same thing (some people say otherwise) but the point is the kid gets it. He's not disgusted just because Larry's tempted. He would be disgusted if the old man picked up the bag and made lines with it, disgusted with himself too for not doing better to help Lawrence Dimick kick the habit. As it stands Freddy is still calm and casual.]

Cool.

[Feet shuffle off the barstool to dangle over the bar's edge.] How much longer are we gonna be here?

[How many more times will he have to confiscate narcotics? Thank fucking christ these people don't know he's a cop.]

Yeah. That's you all over.

[Cool like a glass of pop on a sweltering hot day, that's Freddy right now.]

Ten minutes by my watch but I think it's fast.

[The first drag of the Chesterfield is slow.]

Follow me.

[He steps out from behind the bar reaching past Freddy to grab his glass.]

Take your drink.

[Another 'modest' shrug.] I try.

[For a brief second he panics on the inside, thinking Larry's gonna reach for the bag, but it's only the glass he wants. Whew. Immediately the kid feels guilty for even thinking it but if the old man can't tell there was a flicker of concern then nothing doing. He's got his Dark Lord tagging along.]

Where are we goin'?

[He asks just to keep a casual conversation flowing. As far as he knows no one is any wiser although he hasn't seen Lucky yet either.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject