All The Young Punks Pt. 29

---- FEBRUARY 1980 ---

After more than a month in New York, Joe had to make a trip back home to see his sisters. First, he celebrated Saint Valentine's Day with Tina. He could not leave before that day. She would have been deeply hurt. He took her to Vince Torrios for dinner and then to a Broadway show, Sweeney Todd, his first Broadway musical. Tina was delighted. After the show, T presented him with her gift, a marathon blow job.

He wasn't sure what to expect at home. Mom could rip into him again over the catfight he instigated, or she may have gotten over it. His sisters might give him shit for being away so long, or they might be just happy to see him. He no longer knew what to expect when he arrived home. What he got was something in the middle.

He walked into a familiar scene, Jules at the kitchen table doing homework and Jackie working on dinner. They both looked over and said, "Hi, Joey." Jackie added, "It's about time you showed up."

No one jumped up to hug him. His homecomings had become routine. He kissed Jules on the top of the head and stood beside Jackie. "How's school?"

She put her knife down, turned to him, and embraced him lightly. "It's really good. I mean," she leaned back to see her big brother's eyes. "You predicted everything, the whispers and the stares, and Doreen totally avoids me. I like smiling at her." Jackie hugged him again.

"Quiet revenge. The satisfaction of knowing you've cowed your nemesis."

"Cowed. That's a good word. I'm stealing that." She smirked. "I cowed Doreen?"

"Feel free."

Joe was pleased that Jackie had stood her ground and changed her reputation as a good Catholic girl, but he didn't want to over-encourage her to be a bad Catholic girl. It was a fine line. He just wanted her to be tough and not take shit from anyone.

"Her father called Dad and complained about his dirty daughter hurting his poor little girl."

Joe's mouth fell open, "Really? What did Dad say?"

"He told Mr. Pinto his daughter was bullying me for months and I did what I had to do, and then he said..." she paused with a gleam in her eyes. "If necessary, she has my permission to do it again."

"Holy fuck."

"Don't say the F word," Jeanie said, walking up behind Joe. She stood close, looking up. Joe bent over and kissed her hair, "Hey, peanut." He then turned back to Jackie.

"What did Pinto say?"

"I don't know, but Dad said if he doesn't like it he can come over here and settle it."

"No fucking way."

"Way."

"Do you see that, girls?" Joe turned to the little ones. "If a bully messes with you, just put them down and Dad has your back."

"I don't have to," Jules said. "I'll just tell them who my big brother and sister are, and they'll know."

Joe smiled. "That works too. Is there anything else?" He asked Jackie.

"Kids want to talk about it," she rolled her eyes. "It's so dumb. I don't say anything. Well, I do say that big bitch had it coming..." she smiled. "But that's it."

"Perfect. I bet the whole school knows what happened."

"Yup. And all the nerds she picked on think I'm a hero, just like your nerds felt about you."

That last line choked Joe up a bit. He walked down his room, thinking how his sister not only defended herself, but she fought for all the kids tormented by Doreen Pinto. She was cowed in the eyes of her victims.

When Dad got home for dinner he didn't want to discuss it. All he said was, "It's settled." When Mom came home that night, near midnight, she didn't make a big fuss. Dad had put his foot down and made it clear they would not make more of it than it was, two kids settling a problem the old-fashioned way. That's what Jackie told Joe. Dad had squashed it.

Joe spent a week in Providence. He took all three girls to Casserta's Pizza where the three little pigs ate so much pizza and dessert that Jules and Jeanie had tummy aches. On another day, Joe took Jules and Jeanie on the Ten Bus downtown to Haven Brothers and then east to Victory Records. It was a gamble. They always fought. That's why Joe never took them together. Jules wanted to go to the bookstores and Jeanie the record shop. Somehow, they managed to do all of that without a spat. They watched a few movies on HBO that week and just hung out.

"You're a barnacle," Joe said to a clingy Jeanie as they watched Willie Wonka for the second time that week. "Is it okay that I breathe?"

Joe didn't even consider going to the garage. That chapter in his life was over.

--- VSGG --

Joe arrived in Manhattan during Tina's work shift. He decided to pop in at the Von Something German Gallery. When he arrived, Tina was not at the hostess station greeting visitors. In her place was her friend from school, Jenna.

"Hey, how's the cutest girl in the class of 1983?"

Jenna blushed. "Hi, Joe."

"Where's Tina?"

"She's in her office?"

"Her office?"

Jenna pointed behind her, "The door beside the big planter."

"May I go in?"

Jenna looked up to see if Magaret was looking down, as she usually does when visitors arrive. "Sure." she leaned closer and whispered. "But don't distract her for too long."

As Joe stepped away Tina emerged from the office, "I thought I heard your voice." She hurried over and wrapped her arms around Joe, kissed him, and then pulled him under the second-floor landing overlook where the boss could not see them. She kissed him again.

"What's up with you getting an office?"

She led him by the hand into her new domain. "I didn't say anything because I'm not sure what this means. I didn't get a promotion. There was no pay raise. Margaret simply said I would be more useful doing other work and gave me this office." Tina shrugged. "I'm not gonna argue."

"How did Jenna end up here?"

"Margaret asked me to place an ad for a new hostess and I told her I know someone who'd be perfect. Jenna was looking for part-time work."

Joe had met Jenna a few times over the months. First was the day he delivered a box of bakery cookies to one of Tina's classes. He scored major brownie points with her artsy NYU peers. He saw Jenna a couple of times when he picked Tina up after class because they had plans. He and Jenna talked but it was brief. He made her blush once, asking if she had to include photos with her college application... because all the girls in the NYU Studio Arts program were smoking hot.

Joe and T talked a bit in her bare essentials office making plans to go out for dinner, he kissed her and began walking out. As he did, Margaret was coming down the stairs. Joe had popped into the gallery twice before and both times received cold stares. He also attended the Claude and Claudia event but never spoke to the boss lady. Tina decided to make a proper introduction.

As Margaret reached the first level, Tina pushed Joe toward her. "Margaret, this is Joe Theroux, my boyfriend."

"Yes, I'm familiar with him." She didn't look at Joe. "Did you call Mrs. Rouchambeau about those pieces?"

"I did, and she'll come by tomorrow to deliver them."

"Very good." She nodded at Joe, as if that were a proper introduction, and walked towards the back of her gallery.

"It's very nice to meet you too," Joe said. "Mrs. Von..." he looked at Tina, "how do you pronounce that again? It's something German."

Tina punched his arm. "Don't do that. Are you trying to get me fired?"

"She won't fire you. You're an up-and-comer, and she knows it."

"Where did you get that idea?"

"Your friend at the French sex exhibit," he searched his brain for a name. "Was it Gail?"

"Gail Mortensen."

"Yes," Joe snapped his fingers. "She said that about you, up-and-comer." Joe leaned closer to whisper. "And Gail is no fan of Mags."

"Oh, I'm well aware of that. The feeling is mutual."

Joe turned to Jenna and then looked up at a stylish clock that was both a work of art and a timepiece. "Hey Jenna, we're going out for a bite when this sweatshop closes. Would you like to join us?"

Jenna looked at Tina. Tina nodded. Jenna turned to Joe. "That's very sweet of you." she smiled. "I would love to."

Joe nudged Tina, "You better watch out for this cutie. She's just my type."

"Oh shut up," she pushed him. "Get out of here."

"I have a few hours to kill. I'm heading over to Tommy's for a bit." Joe smiled at Jenna as he passed. "I'll be back at five to take you ladies out."

--- THE MIDDLE MAN ---

Nate's cousin Jeremy was a drug addict and alcoholic who beat his demons. He'd been sober for several years. Working at Tommy Guns was challenging, but he had the will and fortitude to resist temptation. Weeks after Sal and Nate returned to Rhode Island, Jeremy heard from his cousin. He filled Nate in on what he knew in New York. Nate gave him updates on the situation at the garage.

"Nate says Sal is a mess," Jeremy told Joe while pouring his pint. "He's drinking and doing nothing. I guess his dad is getting on his case."

"Ya know," Joe said, "I don't give a fuck about Sal, but I have no quarrel with Nate and I feel bad about Pops. I'm gonna miss the old man. Tony is the best."

"My cousin was hurt when I told him you were looking for bass and drums."

"Nate, hurt?" Joe shook his head. "He's the least sensitive person I know. He's crass."

"Well, don't let that fool you. He was a sensitive kid. I think his shitty attitude is his shield to protect the scared little boy who never got over his father abandoning him. Then he and Mom moved far away."

Joe looked at Jeremy quizzically. "Interesting. What's the deal with his dad?"

"My Uncle Robert is a drunk, abusive asshole. He beat his wife in front of the kid. My aunt is a sweetheart. Nate doesn't realize it, but he's better off without him. He still looks up to his Dad."

Jeremy was pulled away by punks needing drink service. Joe pondered what he had just said about Nate, the sensitive, scared little boy, drunk and abusive dad, mom divorced, and then moving two states away. It explained a lot. Nate had childhood trauma. Joe knew all about that shit.

Jeremy delivered libations to punks and returned to Joe.

"I don't want to stick my nose in your business," Jeremy said. "but if you're having such a hard time finding a drummer, maybe you could talk to Nate. I believe he'd be happy to hear from you."

"As far as I'm concerned, he and Sal are a set. If I get one, I get the other. I have no interest in Sal. I'm done with that meathead."

"You're wrong, Joe. Nate moved out of the garage. He said Sal was too far gone and he couldn't handle it. He's living with some broad and her daughter."

"Linda? The married chick he was banging?"

"I think so, but she's divorced now. That's all I know."

"So Nate broke up with Sal?"

"I'm sure they're still friends, but he just can't deal with Sal's wallowing in bitterness. He said Sal was making him crazy, rehashing everything that happened and pointing fingers."

"And that's why I'm divorced from Sal."

"He said Sal feels everyone is blaming him for Johnny and he's resentful."

"There's plenty of blame to go around. I played my part too. I let Johnny down as much as anyone."

"All I'm saying is, if you have it in your heart to forgive, give Nate a call. I think he'd like to talk."

--- FIRST TACO ---

"What do you mean you've never had a taco?" Jenna asked. "That's crazy."

"What do you mean - What do I mean?" Joe replied. "It's a simple enough statement."

"How could you never have had a taco? How old are you?"

"Nineteen. And what does that have to do with it?"

"You went nineteen years without trying Mexican food?"

"There's one Mexican restaurant I know of back home, Tortilla Flats on the East Side. I've never been. Who cares?"

"Don't you have Taco Bell?"

"I know there's one in Massachusetts, like ten miles away. It was crazy when they opened, cars around the block. It was on the news. I've never been."

"Taco Bell was on the news?"

"Yeah."

"That's weird," Jenna said while sipping her drink. "We have a Mexican family in our town. They run a restaurant. It's so good. My friends and I went there all the time because their son was really cute. He was a year ahead of me in school."

"So you're a mean girl, cock teasing this poor kid working at his family business?"

"We didn't tease him."

Joe stared at Jenna with doubt on his face. She was a cute-as-a-button brunette from a middle-class Connecticut family. Joe admired her smiling eyes.

"Okay," she said. "Maybe a little, but it wasn't mean."

Tina sat back and watched. She was not getting involved in the taco debate. Joe had just ordered his first-ever tacos and when he said so, Jenna found that shocking.

"What about you?" Joe turned to Tina. "Have you had tacos before?"

"Of course," She smirked. "I'm not from Hicksville, Rhode Island. There's a good family joint in Flatbush and I've been here a couple of times."

"Well," Joe said. "We don't have many taco joints in New England. So this is my virgin taco."

"I'm from New England, Joe," Jenna said. "We have tacos."

"Connecticut doesn't count, it's a suburb of New York."

"Connecticut is a New England state."

"What side of the river are you on?"

"This side, the west."

"That's more New York than New England."

"What does that have to do with Mexican food?"

Joe shrugged. When the taco platters arrived, he dove in. Tina and Jenna watched for his reaction. He plowed through the first beef taco in four bites, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and smiled.

"Amazing." He picked up his second taco, this one chicken. "Where have you been all my life?"

He didn't know it at the time, but this would be the first of many nights hanging out with Jenna and Tina. They had only been friends for a few months, but the two artsy chicks had become close. The fact they now worked at VSGG together would only bring them closer. And Joe would be there for all of it.

Joe wiped his mouth again and waved to the waitress. "Can I get one more chicken taco? And more of this green sauce." He looked at Jenna and Tina. "This shit is amazing."

---- UNRELIABLE CUNTS ---

Joe sat with his head in his hands as their latest drum-playing prospect walked out the sound room door. "That guy wants to be Neal Peart. Why did he answer our ad?"

"That's not what put me off," Simon said. "His job was going to be a problem. He made it clear what nights he can't do gigs. After that, I didn't give a damn if he could play. He wasn't going to be reliable."

"It's gonna be hard to find someone who doesn't have a job. People need to support themselves. Most aren't self-sustained professional musicians. Those guys are already in bands."

"Fine, if they have a day job."

Joe sighed. "This is way harder than I thought it would be."

"I told you long ago," Simon put his hand on Joe's shoulder. "musicians are unreliable cunts."

During his now frequent visits to the studio, Joe had become fond of Marty. He was a soft-spoken man, unassuming, but enthusiastic about helping Joe and Simon move forward. After hearing them play Joe's original songs, sans bass and drums, Marty was eager to record them. Joe didn't know much about Marty. One-on-one, after Simon had gone home, Joe asked,

"So, what's your deal, Marty? You have this place but it seems you're not very busy. What's up with that? What got you here?"

"What, do you want my biography?"

"Whatever you're comfortable with. I don't know anything about you. Were you born here?"

"Yes, during the World War. My dad served in the Navy and saw action in the Pacific. There's nothing remarkable about my childhood. I loved music and always wanted to be a musician. The sad thing is, I have no talent. When I realized that, I decided radio was my ticket into the business."

"Did you do that?"

"I had an internship at WCBS. Then they gave me a job but I got drafted for Vietnam."

"Oh, shit. You didn't burn your draft card?"

"Yeah, right," Marty laughed. "My father spent two years fighting the Japs. He would have murdered me. He's a tough old Jew. When I entered the Navy they saw I had specific skills, so they made me a communications squid. I was a radio man on the USS Ticonderoga."

"You were on an aircraft carrier? Did you see action?"

"Personally, not really, but we flew thousands of sorties in '66 and '67 over Vietnam. That's action, but I was miles away from harm. After my service, I came home and found a job in Albany with WNBC. I didn't love it up there but it helped my resume. I came back here to work at WNBC in 1970."

"Okay, how does that lead to this?'

"After seven years of radio, I realized that business is rigged. As a DJ or program director... two jobs I held, what you play is dictated by the suits under the influence of record labels. I hated it. Bands I thought were great were blocked in favor of vanilla bands more palatable for old white men in suits. It was stupid. They're not the target audience."

"This is the shit I like reading about," Joe said. "The Payola Scandal and all that music business corruption. I don't ever want to sign with a major label... not that they want a dumb punk like me. But still, fuck them."

Marty nodded in agreement. "I purchased this slightly run-down building using a modest inheritance and savings. I opened the studio in '75." He leaned back in his chair. "This building is the key to everything. I have tenants in the upstairs offices. They more than cover my monthly nut. That takes the pressure off my business."

"So, you're making a living here?"

"I barely break even some months. When I do make a buck, I give it to my wife. Lee works on Wall Street. If it wasn't for her, I'd have to find a real job."

"Is she supportive, or is this a problem?"

"I married up, Joe, way up. She's the best thing that ever happened to me. My wife believes in what I'm doing, and I don't know why. She's seen me get excited over bands, convinced they were going to make it, and watched us fail every time."

"She probably loves your passion. You're an underdog fighting for underdogs. How many bands have you worked with?"

Marty exhaled, "I've lost count. A couple of dozen maybe? You know what Simon says about musicians. He's not wrong. I can only do so much, the band must carry most of the weight and this business is unforgiving. You must be willing to suffer before you succeed. Most can't hack it."

"Okay, so you record a band and release a record, where does it go wrong?"

"Mostly it's band dysfunction, those unreliable cunts Simon bemoans. The biggest issue after that is getting on the radio. I have friends in the business. I called in favors and got a few bands some light airplay, but not enough to make a difference."

"I don't say much about myself," Joe said, "I'm a low-talent punk... but I am reliable."

"Good," Marty smiled. "I'm reliable too. I also believe we can count on Simon. That's a start."

"Yeah. Simon is a reliable cunt."

---- RED LEATHER ----

Joe and Tina walked across Washington Square Park on their way to the NYU Arts & Sciences building. Joe squinted, looking ahead at a redheaded girl in a red leather jacket.

"I think I know that girl." He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Hey, Betty!"

The girl didn't respond.

"Hey, Betty!"

"Maybe it's not her," Tina said.

"It looks like her."

As Joe walked briskly, ahead of Tina, the gap between them closed.

"Hey, Betty!"

The girl turned and looked back toward Joe. He waved his arms. She didn't recognize him.

"It's her. I'll be right back."

Joe broke into a jog. When Betty realized it was Joe, she walked toward him with a smile.

"What are you doing here?" She said twenty feet away.

Joe said nothing. He reached her with his arms out. "I've been looking for you for six months." They embraced.

Tina kept walking, watching Joe hug some strange young woman. When she arrived, Joe turned to her.