All The Young Punks Pt. 20

When Tina and Simon became Joe's two best friends in New York, they became his sanctuary from the drama and stress of the band. That night, they sat in a booth at The Parkside Grille, rehashing their debate. Joe shared his eggs, sausage, and toast with Tina. He had cherry pie for dessert. Si went for a custard and tea. Tina ordered the chocolate cream pie with coffee.

"You cannot compare them lyrically," Joe said. "Joe Strummer writes about the human struggle, injustice, and oppression. The Sex Pistols are just sex and drugs."

"That's not fair," said Simon. "What about God Save The Queen, or Anarchy in the U.K.?"

"Two great songs against two Clash albums. It's not even close."

"And why don't you cover those Pistol's songs?" Asked Simon.

"Everyone covers hits," Joe took a bite of pie. "We do Holiday In The Sun. I prefer B-sides if they're good."

Tina pointed her fork at Joe. "Is that why you don't play Blitzkrieg Bop?"

"We play it, but not often. Every band plays Blitzkrieg Bop."

"I don't understand why you don't include The Ramones in this discussion," she said. "I bet they've sold more records."

"That may be true," Joe said, "but it doesn't make them better. You said it yourself, people buy crap art all the time."

"They're not crap," she protested.

The Ramones were T's home band. She grew up in Brooklyn. They were from Queen's. She saw the Ramones before they made it big. Joe put his hands over Tina's hand as if he was consoling her.

"'We love The Ramones, they're fun to play, but they're not a serious contender."

"If you love all three bands, who cares which is best?" she asked.

Simon pushed his band. "The Pistols made this all possible. They set the stage."

"Bullshit," Tina said. "The Ramones released a record before them."

Joe laughed. "T's right, but being first through the door doesn't make you the best."

The waitress topped off coffees, forgetting Simon had tea. She gasped, picked up his cup without a word, and walked off to get him fresh tea.

Joe looked at Si. "What about raw talent? Don't tell me Steve Jones is a better guitarist than Mick Jones."

"That, I will graciously concede, but I'll take Johnny Rotten over Joe Strummer as a frontman any day. He's a punk icon."

"Is Rotten even in a band anymore? He walked out while they were recording covers for that garbage second album.

"Sid's taken over," Simon said, "and that record isn't rubbish."

"High praise," Joe sipped his coffee. "Sid wears swastikas. He can go fuck himself."

Tina licked her fork. "Joey Ramone is better than Rotten."

"I'll go one better," Joe said, turning to Simon. "The Ramones are better than the Sex Pistols because Sid and Nancy are dead and gone."

Simon scoffed. "Nonsense! Not one Clash or Ramones record compares to Bollocks."

"I'll give you that. Never Mind The Bollocks is a seminal recording, but I think The Clash's best is yet to come. The Sex Pistols are history."

Tina put her hands up. "Okay, enough. Can we talk about something else?"

"Sorry madam," said Simon. "Do you have something in mind?"

"No, anything but the same argument you had last week."

Joe made a snobby academic voice. "I think we should dissect the influence of neo-contemporary abstract painting on the bourgeois and their vain desire to appear culturally relevant by overpaying for pedestrian art." He winked at Simon.

Tina punched him. "Don't make fun of shit you don't know about, and where did you come up with that garbage? It doesn't even make sense."

Simon snickered. "It sounded good to me." He stirred his fresh tea.

"I made it up. I read your art magazines. I know just enough to fake it."

Tina steeled her eyes. "I'm not going to sit here and listen to you make fun of art."

"My statement isn't without merit. Fools with new money have been buying art to create an appearance of taste and sophistication since... well, forever."

Simon looked at Tina. "Is he really making fun, or does he have a point?"

She pointed her pie fork at Simon. "He's pretending to know what he's talking about. It's a character he plays to get under my skin."

Joe took a sip of coffee. "I hardly believe the issue of plebes driving up the cost of fine art is a topic to be taken lightly. The vanity of the bourgeois is disrupting the balance of..."

Tina placed her hand over Joe's mouth. "You can stop now! Simon gets the joke."

"Here's the thing, Si," Joe lightly pushed T's hand away. "If one of her artsy fartsy NYU peers recited those exact words, she'd take them seriously. But I'm just a clown. She doesn't respect me, so it's dumb when I say it."

"Don't be a baby. I respect you when you know what you're talking about. Change the subject."

Joe smirked at Simon, then turned to T. "That pie you're eating is all wrong. Chocolate goes in cakes, not pie. It should be a rule."

Tina made a face. "What's wrong with chocolate cream pie?"

Simon smiled. "I'm with Joe on this. Chocolate cake is perfect. Pies should be fruit-filled."

"Cream is okay," Joe added. "banana cream, lemon, coconut, but not chocolate cream."

Tina protested. "That makes no sense whatsoever."

"How do you feel about fruit cake?"

"It's disgusting," she said.

"Agreed, bloody awful," Simon made a yucky face.

"You see? Fruit for pies, chocolate for cakes. I rest my case."

Tina elbowed him. "You made fun of art and my choice of pie, is there anything else you want to pick on while you have Simon here to chuckle at your dumb jokes?"

"He's not crazy about those shoes you're wearing," Simon noted.

"What's wrong with my shoes?" She put her foot in the aisle to show her shoe. "These are in style, and they're not rubbish."

"They were in style in 1620," Joe laughed. "Look at the size of that buckle. The pilgrims wore that shit."

"You're such a jerk. These are fine shoes."

"For the Mayflower."

Tina's mouth fell open. "Why are you....?"

Joe just smirked. His favorite thing about teasing Tina was her struggle to hold back a smile while protesting his stupid jokes. She enjoyed it when he sparred with Simon or one of his bandmates, but when he turned on her, she played defense. T knew if she laughed at his wisecracks, it would never end; because making her laugh was Joe's new favorite thing in the world. He loved her laugh, how she covered her mouth with her hand, or if it was really funny, the way she threw her head back with her mouth wide open. Her big laugh was wonderful. It made him happy.

Tina raised her hand. "Can we get our check please?" She turned to the boys. "I've had enough of this nonsense."

"Don't be a baby. I'm just teasing you."

"It's your number one pastime," she pouted.

Simon placed his hand on hers. "He only teases the ones he loves."

"That's true," Joe said as he finished his coffee. "If I didn't like you, I wouldn't even talk to you."

"I'll sign up for that," she said. "Simon, the moment you leave, he'll be the sweetest, most kind boyfriend I could ask for. When he has an audience, he has to put on a show."

Simon smirked. "I think you like the attention."

After they walked out of the diner, Tina had one question as they stood on the sidewalk near Columbus Circle. She hugged Simon. "Why don't you have a girlfriend? You're smart and charming, and a strapping young lad." She slapped her palm on his chest. "It makes no sense."

Simon shrugged, "I've had my share of birds, but I'm not good at commitment. I like doing what I do, and when you have a girlfriend you have to..."

"Compromise?" Tina interrupted him. "You can't meet a girl halfway?"

"That's just it, they don't want halfway. They want you to do what they want, including changing me." He shrugged. "And I end up resenting that."

"Well," Tina smiled. "You just haven't met the right girl. I'll see what I can do about that."

Simon embraced Joe, "Good luck with Johnny. Don't think I don't know what you did tonight."

"What?"

"You used me to send a message to your band."

Joe shrugged, "I won't deny that."

They parted ways at 2:45 A.M. Joe and Tina walked south, Simon east.

---- ADDICTED TO LOVE ----

When they returned to Jones Street, Joe peeked into the band bedroom. It was empty. He was hoping Johnny would be there. Sal and Nate, he didn't care about. It dawned on him how far his relationship with his bandmates had fallen in less than eight weeks. After using the bathroom, he joined Tina in her bedroom. Her bed had become his sanctuary. He immediately felt safe in Tina's purple and pink pocket of heaven. She was already down to her panties and bra.

"Johnny's not here," he said. "No one is here. I hope he's not in 1B."

Tina put her fingers gently on his lips. "Sssh, no band talk. You're on my time now. You promised I could have anything I want." She reached down to his denim and kissed him sweetly as she unbuckled his belt.

Joe kissed her while she played below the equator. "I want to play with my favorite toy."

"I like the sound of that."

She fell back on the bed, pulling Joe with her. Her hands stayed low as he held himself over her with his arms, kissing her sweetly. Her light touch was magical. After several seconds of winding Joe up, she stopped.

"In the morning." Tina pushed up on his chest and rolled from under him.

"It is morning." Joe fell to the bed.

"No, after sleep morning," she smiled and climbed under the covers.

"Then why did you make me hard?" He looked down at his rigid cock.

"Don't be a baby. I'm just teasing you."

Joe smiled and shook his head. "Alright. I'll just whip the bishop under the covers." He climbed under and fluffed his pillow.

"No. Save it for the morning."

---- several hours later ---

"As I said, I have so many questions," T said. "I won't ask them all at once."

"Ask anything."

Tina sat cross-legged on the bed playing with her favorite toy. She had lube on her side table. She squirted some.

"This is the hardest you've been." T smiled.

"You built this boner, baby."

T smiled, "Yes. This isn't a high school hand job."

"It's the deluxe college version."

"Question one," Tina said with authority. "Have you ever measured yourself?"

"No."

Her expression informed Joe she didn't believe him. "Really? You've never measured it?"

"Nope."

"I don't believe you."

"I don't care. I don't need the stats. I can see it and touch it anytime I want."

"Mmmmm. I envy you," she said while spreading lube with both hands.

Joe cleared his throat and proclaimed. "I hereby grant you, Tina Costello, unlimited access privileges to this member and all body parts attached."

"Thank you," she giggled. "I accept this honor with great pride. I'd like to thank the Academy and everyone who helped me along ... "

"Oh shit. My absurdity is rubbing off on you."

"I know," she smiled. "I'm beginning to understand. You make everything big and overstated. It's weird but funny."

Tina added more lube and continued playing. "Full disclosure, I plan on taking full advantage of my privileges. Are there any other perks?"

"Your exclusive membership also provides these lips, this mouth, and this tongue." He stuck out his tongue. "You have the sole authority to direct them for your pleasure and gratification."

Tina smiled. "I'm gonna like this club. When you say exclusive and sole authority, does that mean I'm the only member of your club?"

"I'm a member, and my member is a member."

"Are there any other female members or is this an exclusive club?"

Joe thought it best to pause and answer with a question. "Is that what you desire?"

Tina's expression went from a playful smile to earnest. She looked intently into Joe's eyes. "Yes. It is. I want you to be mine. If we're together, I'm with you and no one else. I hope you feel the same." She hesitated, thinking of her next words. "Because of what you do, you have lots of girls hitting on you. I've seen it, they're all smiling and flirty and all over you. It's gross."

"Why is it gross?" He asked. "I don't know if that's the word I'd use."

"Okay, maybe it's not gross. It's pathetic and desperate. I don't know. I just don't like them pawing at you."

"I can't control that. I can only manage myself and my actions."

"I understand."

Her hands were magic. She added more lube.

"This is important to me. If being my boyfriend, and mine alone, is..." She paused again, "is not something you can do. I need to know now."

Joe met her eyes again, pausing before answering. She put him in a spot. What's he going to do, say no, and risk aborting this magical hand job? Tina had the upper hand, but he let her twist in the wind while awaiting his reply. It was a long moment. When Joe saw her expression change, he let her off the hook with a smile.

"Sure, why not? I got nothin' else going on."

Tina stopped and slapped his package.

"Ouch! Take it easy there," he crossed a leg over in defense.

"You did that on purpose. You let think you had doubts."

Joe grabbed her and pulled her down, wrapping his arms around her, nose to nose. "There is no doubt," Joe said sincerely. "I want this, just you. From the moment we met, I felt this way."

"Me too," she said sweetly.

Joe kissed her, and again.

"Can I measure it?" She asked.

"What?" Joe leaned back. "Can't we have a sweet moment? Does it have to be all dick all day?

Tina slapped his ass, "When we're naked? Yes. I just want an official measurement."

"Why?" Joe defensively pulled the sheet over his junk.

"You may not need the stats," she said. "but I'd like a number."

"Why?"

Tina jumped up, threw on her silky robe, and snuck into the living area where Nate and Sal were watching television and eating Joe's box of Captain Crunch.

"You need milk," Nate said flatly. "We killed it."

Tina fished around in her junk drawer, ignoring Nate, then returned to her bedside with a wooden ruler.

Joe shook his head. "Seriously?"

"Yes, I'm doing this in the name of science." She smirked as she crawled onto the bed. "Sex is biology, biology is science."

Tina sat cross-legged at Joe's left staring at him. Joe held the sheets over his junk. "You're not measuring my dick."

"Okay," she shrugged. "I guess I'm done playing."

She had the upper hand. Joe flipped the linen aside and Tina resumed her massage until she was satisfied his member was ready for science. She deployed the ruler. Leaning over Joe, Tina made her official determination.

"Just a tad over eight inches. That's a nice number. I like it."

"I'm not eight inches."

"How do you know if you've never measured it?"

"I just watched you. I saw where the tip was on the ruler. It's definitely under eight inches."

"You're the subject. I'm the judge. Shut up." T tossed the ruler aside and went back to her favorite new toy. Joe leaned back, smiling at her, thinking of how lucky he was.

He was addicted to love and now a true believer that love and sex together were the greatest high of all. Joe was delighted that Tina wanted sex more than he did. He never had to make a move. It was her way to start the day and if she didn't, T would find a time and place to get what she wanted; mid-day, evening, late at night. Sex could happen at any minute... as if Joe was on call. She was the girl of his dreams.

---- FIND TITLE WITHIN ----

Saturday should've been a sleep-in and fuck all-day affair, but after Tina won an Olympic gold medal for a marathon handjob, she had other plans. How could he protest?

"C'mon, let's go. Get dressed."

"For what? You said you wanted thirty-sex hours."

"That was a joke. I'm hungry and I want to go out."

Joe whined, "Why can't we order some delivery and stay here... a naked lunch."

"Nope. My time, my rules." She pinched his big toe. "Get up and get dressed. I want to have a day."

That's what T called a day of running around the city. "Let's have a day!" and off they'd go to wherever she dragged Joe, parks and museums were her go-to destinations. Joe had little say in the matter as they ventured off into the concrete jungle. Tina herded Joe to the subway for a ride to a secret destination. Going north on the A-Train, she tugged on his sleeve.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did."

Tina rolled her eyes, "How are we going to make this work, me here and you in Providence?"

"I have some thoughts," he said. "but it depends on what happens with Johnny."

"Okay. Let's assume he gets clean and the band stays together. How are you going to manage the band, being on the road and being with me?"

Joe exhaled, "I'll happily accept that challenge if Johnny gets his act together. I've thought about it. I have a plan."

"What's the plan?"

"We have ten year-round clubs in New England and a few seasonal beach bars. We have four New York clubs if that place in Queens works out."

"What place in Queens?"

"I got a lead on a bar in Flushing, The Metropolitan Club."

"Oh, my God. I know The Metro, that's my old hangout. My first underage beer was at The Metro. I can't believe it. This is great. I know so many people there."

"Cool. I didn't have time to book anything this trip, but when we come back it'll be on the schedule."

"I can't wait," Tina side-hugged him as the train stopped at a station. "I haven't been there since last summer."

"Anyway," Joe continued. "My plan was for Sal and I to take a road trip up north to scout some bars in college towns. Vermont and New Hampshire have small schools we want to check out and we hoped to find some venues up there to add to the circuit. My plan was to create routes that take us through those towns, and another route in Southern New England. That was my thinking before we came to New York."

"How does this change your plans?"

"It doesn't. It just changes how I look at the map. I'm thinking of running both routes through New York so I can have time with you during every road trip."

Tina leaned against him, "That's sweet. How often would that be?"

"I won't know until we add new clubs, maybe every couple of weeks, or three."

"I'd only see you every three weeks?"

"If we have four clubs in the city I would start or end each road trip here. I'd book us for a week in the city. Then, in between those road trips, I'd have a week off, so you'd have me for two weeks."

"Okay, that's not so bad."

"It's really up to Johnny. If he can't get his shit together I'm back to square one."

On this day, she planned another day of park-hopping. Tina set course for a set of parks Joe had never been to. She decided they'd start at the park furthest from home and worked their way back to The Village.

They emerged from the subway at 125th Street, the edge of Harlem, and made their way to Morningside Park. After strolling south through the park, they walked west, holding hands. Joe pointed to a church. "I have to go in there."

Tina leaned back, "You, in a church?"

"It's not a church, it's a cathedral," He pulled her up the steps of St. John The Devine. "This is the mothership. It'll only take a minute."

"I hope the roof doesn't fall in."

After Joe's brief errand in Catholicism, Tina led him east to Riverside Park on the Hudson River. They ambled south from 110th Street to 64th. New Yorkers walked, some jogged past them, enjoying a warm and sunny September day. Tina stopped to pet a dozen dogs, guessing their breeds and getting their names.

"I want a dog someday," she said. "I want my kids to grow up with dogs."

"I'll make a note of it."

They stopped for an Italian Ice. Tina suggested they share one. Moving east, back into the city she handed him the cup. Joe looked inside.

"Jesus," he stared at her. "it was big of you to save me some. I knew I should have gotten my own."

"Don't be a baby."

They weaved their way to tiny West End Park, past The Lincoln Center and The Met. They stopped at a public school playground and watched kids and teens shooting hoops. Joe grabbed a loose ball that got away from a teen. He stepped onto the court, set his feet, and launched his rainbow shot from the corner. It doinked off the rim, straight up, and fell through. The kids cheered, he raised his arms and turned to Tina.