All The Young Punks Pt. 48

--- If you think I was rough on Joe in the last two chapters, brace yourself. ---

July 1984

When Joe walked out of 3C leaving Tina to cry alone, his first instinct was to get in his car and drive. Ellie and the open road were soothing for his soul. He could think clearly with no distractions. He decided against running. The last time he ran, he was gone for a week and a half. He could not afford to lose time, but he felt Tina might need a couple of days to calm down.

He walked the streets of Manhattan through the wee hours. This time, there were no punks, laughter, and no pie. He was in his own head, not the safest place to be during troubled times. He relieved himself of the burden he had carried for weeks by dropping that weight on Tina's heart, crushing her faith in him.

Joe had forty-nine days, exactly seven weeks, to convince Tina with his deeds and devotion that she was the most important thing in his life. After this tour, he would come back to her one final time and never be away so long again. He could only do that if she gave him a chance to make up for his broken promise.

He was hurt, hurt that he caused her pain, but also because she could not apply simple logic and recognize that he tried his best and it was her gallery problems that created this conflict. Joe was a master at winding himself up, thinking and overanalyzing until he was in full anxiety or blue lividity. As city blocks and hours passed, his hurt grew to frustration. Tina was being unreasonable.

At six o'clock, he grabbed breakfast at the Little Apple Diner in Chelsea. He sat at the counter, New Yorkers starting the workday all around him. He had three cups of lonely coffee, speaking to no one except Janet, the waitress on counter duty. Then he walked to Guerilla Studios and sat by the front door. When Laura walked up with keys in hand to start the business day. She flashed a happy-to-see-him smile.

"Wow, you look like crap. Were you up all night eating pie?"

"No, just walking and breakfast and I needed a friendly face." He answered sadly

She furrowed her brow curiously while opening the door. Joe followed her inside and to her office.

"So what's with the sad puppy dog face this morning?" She asked as she set her things on her desk.

"Tina threw me out." He said flatly. "I'm worried this could be it." Then he heard words he'd been hearing for weeks.

"Oh please, that chick is mad about you, you'll be back having makeup sex before the night is done."

"Don't bet on it."

"What the hell did you do to get kicked out?" she paused. "Oh my god, did you finally fuck a groupie?" Laura laughed.

"Screw you," he said in a low tone as he sat in the chair across from her desk.

Laura stared at him for a moment. She had seen Joe perform; his best moments. She had seen him laugh. She knew his anger and frustration at AA. Laura had never met sad Joe.

"I'm sorry. What happened?" She pointed across the hall. "You can tell me while I make a pot of coffee."

"I've had three cups already."

"I'm not making it for you. I need some, and Marty and Marsha like that it's ready when they arrive."

Joe got up and followed her to the small break room kitchen. While she made weak office coffee, he told her the entire tale. Laura already knew much of it, the Guerilla side, him taking the summer off and then negotiating for another month. She did not know the details of Tina's construction headaches.

"I'm sorry I joked, Joe." She said, handing him a coffee he didn't need. "You knew the tour dates months ago, you're just telling her now? I assumed you had that all figured out. You always work shit out."

That was the other thing he was hearing too much. Everyone had faith that he would figure it out and find a way, except Joe.

"Except it didn't work out. I did everything I could and it's not enough because I have no control over her business. Once I learned her date was the same weekend I was flying, I dreaded telling her. I put it off for a couple of weeks. She's dealing with a lot right now. I didn't want to pile on."

"That's two weeks you could have used discussing it with her and maybe finding a solution."

"She can't be reasoned with. Tina is very emotional. When she gets upset logic goes out the window. It's all feelings and drama."

"Ha." Laura covered her mouth. "I'm sorry. You calling someone else dramatic is... amusing."

When Marty and Marsha arrived and heard Joe was kicked out, they were sad for him and gave him more of the annoying, "Of course she'll take you back, she loves you."

He hung around the office long enough to be sure T was at the gallery so he could go home and get some sleep. Back in the apartment, he flopped on the bed, fully dressed. He was exhausted in every way. There was a collection of balled-up snotty tissues on the bedside table. Not knowing if he should be there when she came home, he set the alarm so he could leave early.

As he faded into sleep, he could smell her on the pillows and sheets, her perfume, hair products, and Tina. He breathed her in and passed out.

The alarm startled him from a deep sleep. He showered, packed some clothes in his leather pack, and left. Joe didn't know what to do, so he went to the Hotel Chelsea, had dinner in El Quijote, and got a room for the night. The following morning, he paid for a second night.

.

.

---- SEVEN WEEKS ----

After three nights away, Joe returned to Guerilla because he had nothing else to do and no place to go after checking out of The Chelsea. He had spent most of two days in his hotel room, watching television, and reading his favorite book, again. He left his room only to dine and drink at the hotel bar.

He remembered back in high school how 1984 seemed so far away. Now his life felt Orwellian, dark, hopeless, and he was helpless to fix it. He arrived at the office hungover after a late night.

Marsha looked up from her reception desk, "There you are. People are looking for you. Tina called twice, yesterday and the day before. Where have you been?"

"Right around the corner at The Chelsea."

"Maybe you should let us know next time. Marty and Stan want to speak to you. Simon called. I guess Tina reached him. Everyone's worried about you."

"Don't worry. I'm not jumping from the rooftop. Not yet."

Joe sat in Marty's office, discussing his situation while waiting for Stan to arrive, but mostly he just sat quietly while Marty worked. When Stan arrived, Laura joined them for a team meeting.

"EIC wants the band in their office to go over the European tour," Marty said. "There's a lot going on over there and they want to make sure everyone is on the same page."

"Is this meeting in the contract Sheila fucked me in the ass with?"

His partners stared blankly.

"If not, fuck them. I'll be on that flight on Saturday the first, maybe. I'll do the bullshit before and after parties and the shows. I'm not giving them one extra minute of my life."

"What do you mean maybe?" Stan asked.

"I may not fly on Saturday."

"You cannot do that, Joe," Marty said. "They're worried you're going to pull some shit after this last request was denied. Ken told me that Roger Goodman is taking bets. He's on the 'Theroux will fuck us' side of the wager."

"Good. Let them sweat. I'm glad I'm not the only one losing sleep over this tour."

"Ticket sales are good, but not great," Marty said. "Ken is keeping me updated. There's still a month and a half, so we're not worried."

"This is one of the few times I'm glad we're earning a set rate and not relying on the door. If this tour shits the bed we get paid the same." Joe smirked. "And David Benjamin takes it in the shorts."

Laura did her thing, discussing the other bands touring the Guerilla circuit. They now had fourteen regional club acts driving from city to city. She went over each band, explaining what they've done.

"The best thing about this past year is learning where they draw and where they don't. Ruby Slippers does great in college towns. Jada does not. She does better in the cities. Rasputin is also a good college band. The punk clubs are a no-go for them."

"They're not a punk band," Joe noted.

"I know, but we tried them. Barneys and Tommys did not work. Pennyhill plays well everywhere but we don't put them in the punk dives... because they don't fit there."

"How are record sales?" Joe asked. "Are they working the record shops and pumping the vinyl?"

"It varies," Marty said. "Not everyone is a natural promoter. When I meet the bands I try to figure out which member is best suited for that role. Sometimes they have no one with that... personality."

"The Blasters are goddamn lazy," Stan added.

"They're young," Marty added. "Give them time."

Joe stopped talking because he didn't want to make this meeting last one minute longer than necessary. After all the business was handled, he walked out to reception.

"What did Tina say?" he asked Marsha.

"She wants you to come home."

"She kicked me out."

Marsha shook her head. "Not forever, hon. These things happen. Just go home and makeup."

Stan put his hand on Joe's shoulder. "C'mon. let me buy you lunch."

"No thanks. I'm not in a good place. I need to go home."

Stan's eyes got wide. "You're turning down deli? That's a first."

"I'll take a rain check."

Day 46 was the first high in what would be an emotional roller coaster ride that would last seven weeks, up and down, good and bad, pulling Joe in every direction. On the way home he picked up groceries to cook dinner. There was a message on the machine in 3C.

Beep. "Hi, Tina. It's Alice Theroux. Have you heard from Joe? We haven't. Please call when you do."

Joe puffed his cheeks and blew air, "Fuck, she called Mom." He phoned home and told Jackie he was okay. That led to a sisterly interrogation with Mom in the background feeding questions. Joe had to shut it down.

When Tina arrived, she flung her arms around him and apologized for overreacting and throwing him out.

"I didn't tell you to stay out for three nights. Where did you go?"

"The Chelsea."

"I just needed to cry it out without you staring at me. I thought you'd come back in the morning."

"You didn't specify."

"Why do you always run away Joe?"

"I didn't run away. You threw me out."

Joe sat at the kitchen table. He thought a kiss would make him feel better, but he wasn't making that move. A rejection would be too painful.

"What's next Joe?" Her hands met her hips. "What do you have planned for the rest of the summer?"

"I have forty-five more days and I'd like to spend them with you. I don't care what we do."

"So you're asking me to pretend everything is okay for forty-five days and not think about you flying off to London on day forty-six?"

"I'm not asking you to do anything T. I just want to help you with your gallery work when I can, if you'll let me."

Tina sat across from him and stared blankly.

"I bought some pasta and veggies," he said. "I was gonna make a primavera for dinner."

"I'm not hungry. I eat like shit when you're not home. I'm just too stressed to eat. I have no appetite."

Joe exhaled. "Okay."

"I have nine days remaining with Mags and she won't pick a new girl. She's rejected every candidate. We're up to nine now. I wanted to help train someone but the time for that has passed and she's acting like it's my fault."

"I think you should stop talking to Mags about the future of her business, finish out your days, and focus on your place. You know I'm here with no plans. Let me help you."

Tina didn't respond to his offer. Instead, she vented about Phil the foreman. "I'm glad I have a date because now he has a deadline. The problem is, I don't know if he'll get it done. He's an asshole who treats me like I'm his dipshit daughter. He has no respect for me."

"How do you know his daughter is a dipshit?"

"Because he refers to her as his dipshit daughter to his crew. He's always complaining about his wife and daughter."

"Don't take it personally. He sounds like one of those assholes who have no respect for women."

"Oh, he most certainly is, and I can still take it personally."

Joe sat and listened while Tina vented. When she was done, she said, "Ya know. Maybe I can eat. Will you cook?"

"Of course I will."

Tina got up and walked around the table and hugged him. Joe stood up. She kissed him, put her head on his chest, and sighed. "I'm sorry, Joe. I'm trying, but it's just hard to not feel this way. I'm so disappointed."

After dinner, she took him by the hand into the bedroom where they made up properly. "I want you on top," she said, "so I can kiss you."

That was the high hill on the rollercoaster.

On Day 39 Joe had a question. He suspected he knew the answer but he had to ask anyway. Tina was coming home each night with new problems. He'd listen, and offer a few light comments, but not much. The wrong advice could make matters worse. He felt she could use some time off.

"I was looking at Maine today, Baxter State Park. Dad took us there as kids." He braced himself. "Do you think we can do our roadie this year?"

"Are you fucking serious? Do you think I can get away for a week? What's wrong with you?"

"Hey! I asked a simple question. I'm sorry you had another shitty day but you don't have to take it out on me. I just thought you might like a break from this bullshit."

"I can't take a week off, Joe. Not now. You know that. It was a dumb question."

"You're the one who says every year that you want to create traditions for us and the birthday-anniversary week will be our vacation, every year. You said you want to do a roadie, every year. Don't give me shit for remembering and asking."

"I can't! You know that. So why ask?"

"You could have said so without bitching at me."

She glared at him, her eyes were cold.

"Fuck this shit," Joe said under his breath. He put his shoes on and walked out.

"Where are you going?"

The door slammed behind him. He stayed out all night again, just walking, and came home in the morning after she was gone. When she got home that evening, he said nothing about it.

"So, where did you stay last night?"

He ignored her.

"Well. Did you stay at The Chelsea?"

He said nothing.

"Are you not talking to me?"

"I wouldn't want to say something stupid and get my head bitten off."

"Well, I'm sorry. You should have known this is no time for a vacation."

It took a full two days before they recovered from that round. When she finally apologized sincerely, with misty eyes, he knew she felt badly. Late that night they lay in bed, talking, and when she reached under the covers he knew the fight was over. She made amends with a slow and loving blow job.

Day 36 was Tina's final day at the Von Something German Gallery. Joe hoped that Tina's stress level would drop. It was the first day in weeks that she came home in a good mood, relieved that she was done with Mags.

"My office is done," she said, embracing Joe in the kitchen. "I'm going in tomorrow to clean and make sure everything is okay. My furniture will arrive on Monday."

"That's perfect timing," Joe said, kissing her forehead.

"There's a lot of finish work to do in the gallery and downstairs in the studio, but at least I have an office." She looked up. Her calmness was obvious. It made Joe happy. "And I'll have a phone installed on Wednesday."

"You can get work done and keep an eye on Phil the asshole foreman. Crack that whip, baby."

"What's for dinner?"

"I'm taking you out, to celebrate your freedom from the Stalag."

"Where are you taking me?"

"Where else do we go on special occasions?"

"Vince's?"

"Yes. I made reservations days ago."

.

.

---- SOMETHING IN THE WAY SHE MOVES ----

July was a rough month, the worst of their relationship. Joe rolled the dice on the reservations hoping she would celebrate with him. The way that week had gone, trouble every day, it was a long shot. It turned out that weekend was the best two days Tina and Joe shared in a long time. They had dinner at Vince Torrios on Friday, got tipsy on martinis, walked home laughing, and fucked with wild drunken abandon.

Lying in bed on Saturday morning, he watched her sleep with her lips curled in a slight smile. Just watching Tina sleep peacefully gave him hope after so many restless nights when she couldn't. At breakfast, she was chipper, talking about the decorating ahead of her.

"Gail has this woman, Patricia, who does all her interior decorating. She's done several galleries and so many corporate offices on Wall Street. I know I'm in good hands, unlike these other assholes."

"So, is Patricia doing the work, or does she have a crew?"

"Both, but for me she's more of a design consultant. Jenna's last day is next week. She'll be helping and I have artist's friends coming over."

"Phil was Gail's guy too, right?"

"Yes, J&L is her contractor. She gives them a lot of work. Her penthouse, her summer cottage in Connecticut, and so many galleries. Phil is just one of their foremen. That company has crews on sites all over town."

"J&L," Joe said under his breath.

"Patricia is the queen of her company, not some employee with a shit attitude. She'll be very helpful."

As they enjoyed breakfast, Joe made her laugh a few times, telling her about how he was disturbed at the beach seeing men eyeballing his sisters.

"I was affected. I never see my sisters in any sexual context. To see guys looking at them the way my bandmates leer at girls creeped me out. I wanted to take them home immediately and tell Mom to lock them up."

Tina smiled... her look of love, and put her hand on Joe's. "I know you'll be a good dad because you're a good big brother."

They went to Amethyst Gallery and spent two hours cleaning her new office, checking out the work done and what remains, and Tina explained her decorating plan. Joe cooked a nice meal at home, they fucked, then watched an old Bogart movie, Dark Passage.

Under the covers, her warmth and softness, her kisses and fingers roaming, sent chills through Joe's body. There was something in the way she moved, an intimate ballet. Tina was as graceful in bed as she was in her art world. Being inside Tina was nirvana.

"I'm home, baby," he whispered as she sucked his cock. You're my home.

You don't pass on the affection of many young women unless you're gay or you have someone so special you would walk over coals for them. The sexual frustration Joe endured on the road was torture. In this bedroom, he was rewarded. On this night he felt proud of his sacred bond with Tina, without the church. He would never betray that.

Sunday was their first city day in a long time, with two diners, two parks, and an exhibit at the Guggenheim. Watching her laugh at children clowning around at crowded Bryant Park made him think about the future. Joe made the mistake of buying one ice cream cone because Tina said she would only have a nibble. Five minutes later, on Fifth Avenue, in front of the fountains, Joe was beside himself.

"We've been together almost five years. I know you so well and you've done this so many times," He raised his palms, exasperated. "What's wrong with me?"

"I'm sorry," she said, smiling, as the bottom point of the cone crunched between her teeth."

"No, you're not! I had two little bites."

"I can't help it."

"You're so much like Jeanie. I'm going back to buy myself a cone. You had yours." Joe ran back half a block and returned to her walking slowly, eating his cone.

Tina watched him licking his cool treat. "You had two nibbles of my cone," she said, eyeballing his black raspberry ice cream. "I need two from yours."

"Stay away from my cone," Joe put up a stop sign. "You can't be trusted. You can't help yourself."

"You can hold the cone and I'll just nibble."