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Click hereThe bar was smoky, but it always was. On busy nights, you could open the door and watch the smoke roll out into the street. In the summer, the humidity would keep it close to the ground so it would drift along the sidewalk and into the street until an errant sea breeze carried it, tattered and torn, off to the piney woods. But it was still fall.
âHi, Iâm Lisa. Can I buy you a drink?â
I looked up at the mirror and saw a girl in profile looking at me. Her hair hid her face, but I didnât turn to get a better look.
âI donât mean to be rude,â I said, âbut I kind of want to be alone.â
âOK, âI-donât-mean-to-be-rudeâ, Iâm not going to sit in your lap. Itâs just that you look like you could use a drink, and I just scored big at the roulette wheel. So whatâll it be? Is that bourbon?â
âBlack Bush. Thanks.â
I still hadnât turned to look at her, but I saw her face in the mirror as she turned to signal the bartender and I was surprised to see how young she looked. Somehow, her voice, husky and low, made her seem older, but her face, framed with long, glossy, black hair was smooth, unlined.
My drink arrived just as I sucked the last of the old one off of the ice. I put a cigarette in my mouth and shook one out of the pack to offer to Lisa.
âMenthol?â, she asked.
âNo. Ultra light. Iâm getting more nicotine from the air in here than my cigarettes.â
Lisa reached into her purse and pulled out a pack of her own and pulled one out. I lit it with my Zippo, still without looking at her except in the mirror.
âYou should quit,â she said. âYouâre not getting anything from them anyhow.â
âSo should you.â
There were fluorescent lights under the back bar to light the liquor bottles and they made me look like Iâd been dead a week. The smoke wreathing my face made it seem as if I were on a just-lit pyre. Perhaps a victim of the Plague. Lisaâs face looked warm.
Our eyes met in the mirror. âSo what has you so depressed?â
âLisa, thatâs a sad, pathetic story and I donât care to whine. Iâd rather just sit here and wallow in it.â
âWhat? Self-pity?â
âSure. About five more drinks and maybe Iâll be drunk enough to sleep. Maybe Iâll even cry. I hope not, but you never know. Then Jimmyâll call me a cab and Iâll go home. Tomorrow, Iâll do it again. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.â
âIs Jimmy the bartender?â
âYeah, weâre old buddies. Thatâs why I come here. I know he wonât let me drive when I drink too much.â
âSo. Youâre just going to sit here and suck bad air and drink âtil you fall down.â
I nodded my head. âYeah. Pretty much.â
âMust be a woman.â
I turned to look at her for the first time. It was a crappy mirror. Maybe I only looked three days dead. Then I turned away without saying anything.
âWell look, âI-donât-want-to-be-rude--ââ
âAndy.â
âWhat?â
âMy nameâs Andy.â
âOK. Andy. I donât want to bug you or anything, but you seem like the safest bet to sit next to in this bar. I donât like fat lawyers whoâve overstayed Happy Hour,â she gestured toward a loud group next to the ficus, âand Iâm not into those frat boy types over there doing shots,â here she pointed with her chin toward the end of the bar, âand, quite frankly, those women behind us have been staring at me like lions at the watering hole since I walked in. I think they might be lesbians.â She sounded shocked, maybe even mildly outraged. â So Iâm not moving. Iâll do all the talking. You donât have to respond, but please, be polite and at least pretend to listen.â
She was looking at me in the mirror again, so I nodded. I figured that a long, boring story about a night at the casino was a small price to pay for another whiskey.
âAlright, yak away. And they are lesbians, but they wonât hurt you.â
âGreat! I knew I picked the right guy to sit by.â
She went on to tell me the same dull story youâll hear a thousand times in a casino town. Down to her last few dollars, she put it all on â17â, won, let it ride, won again, let it ride, won again. Hereâs where the story was different. She left.
Usually, they say, âI shoulda left then.â What they donât realize is that the casinoâs bread and butter is the âI shoulda leftâ loser. Everybody has the âI shoulda left â story.
âWhy â17â?â
âMy age when I lost my virginity.â
âA good memory? Most of the women I know say that their first time wasnât so great.â
âOh no, it was good. He was an older man of twenty-five. Very experienced I guess, but it was real good.â
âWell, let me give you a piece of advice,â I said. âNever gamble again. Thatâs the only way youâll stay a winner. Youâve got a healthy chunk of the casinoâs money, thereâs no sense giving it back.â
âSure, but what fun would that be? Iâm not going to gamble anything I canât afford to lose, and I can afford to lose a lot more now, so whatâs the harm? What about you? You live in a casino town and donât gamble?â
âThatâs right. I play poker.â
She looked at me like I was crazy or an idiot.
âPoker isnât gambling,â I said.
âWhat are you talking about? Itâs all about the turn of the cards, isnât it? Best hand wins, and that depends on a random shuffle.â
âWhat cards you get depends on the shuffle, but the best hand doesnât necessarily win. The player who convinces the other players that he has the best hand wins.â
âBluffing.â
âSure.â
âWell, thatâs just lying. Donât you know thatâs a sin?â
âSoâs gambling, but you gotta keep âem off balance. They have to think youâre bluffing when youâre not, and think you got the nuts when you bluff. Even better than bluffing is reading the other guy. If I know when theyâre bluffing and when theyâre not, I can rape âem.â
âI thought poker players all had poker faces.â
âThey all think they do, but youâd be surprised how many players get a slight tremble in their hand when they have something hot. They usually try to hide it, so if you notice their fingers making larger dents in the felt than usualâŠâ I pressed my fingers into the bar to demonstrate. âSmokers blow smoke over the table when theyâre bluffing and blow it straight up when theyâre holding. Simple shit, but most of the tourists donât know any of that, and the sharks, well, theyâre not that hard to spot.â
âWhat do you do if thereâs a shark at the table? Can you beat them.â
âSome of them. Usually, two or three sharks will just split up the fish. Any more than three and somebody has to leave. There just isnât enough to go around. Thereâs no sense butting heads when thereâs plenty of easy games to bleed.â
She sat quiet for a while, and I took the opportunity to look at her in the mirror. She had a more or less oval face with a sharp chin. Her eyes looked Japanese, but only slightly tilted and her hair was long and black.
âSo, whatâs got you so bummed today?â she asked.
âOh, man. Do you really want to know?â
She turned towards me on her barstool and leaned a little forward. âYeah.â
âAlright. Jimmy! Two more, please.â
I waited until Jimmy brought the drinks. Jimmy poured mine straight into my old glass. He knew I liked whiskey best over marinated ice. Lisa had a Cosmopolitan. Christ, pink martinis.
âItâs the same old thing. The girlfriend. I thought we were going to get married and all that. I love her, my dog loves her, she loves us, but it didnât end up working out.â
âShe left you, huh?â
âYep.â
âWere you cheating?â
âNo, she gave me the âitâs not you itâs meâ speech. But then she said that she needed something I couldnât give her. I said if she just told me what it was, Iâd get it for her. Beg, borrow, or steal. I probably would have even worked for it if I had to. Shit, Iâm starting to whine. Iâm going to shut up now.â
I turned back to my drink, lit another cigarette and blew the smoke over my Irish. I liked the way it clung to the surface of the whiskey like a little fog bank in my glass. In the mirror I could see that she was trying to think of what to say.
âWhat did she look like?â
âTall. Beautiful smile. Warm brown eyes. Red hair.â I turned to look at her, and she flashed an encouraging smile. âIn a way, you remind me of her.â
She looked at herself in the mirror.
âHow so?â
I pointed at her long legs.
Lisa stretched out a leg and pointed her foot. Her shoe dangled from her toes. Beautiful. âMy legs?â
âYeah. They were the first thing I noticed about her when we met.â
âHowâd you meet? I bet itâs romantic.â
âI donât know about that. Jimmy introduced us.â
âThe bartender? You met her here?â
âNo. Jimmy hadnât opened this place yet, but yeah, he introduced us.â
âWhy wasnât he dating her?â
I laughed. âJimmy isnât that kind of guy. Heâs a manâs man.â
âYouâre kidding. I never would have guessed.â
âYeah. He gets hit on by more women than men. I think it irks him. Anyhow, I wasnât seeing anybody, and she had just split up with her boyfriend, so Jimmy figured weâd be perfect. Usually, I wouldnât trust a gay manâs taste in women, they want to set you up with that girl whoâs got a nice personality and is a really good dancer, but Jimmyâs got pretty good taste.
âAnyhow, he organized a group to go out to dinner. She didnât know that he was bringing a man for her, so if I thought she was a dog or something, it would just be a dinner with friends. But she was beautiful. She was wearing that yearâs version of the âlittle black dressâ with her long legs dangling out of it, and I was hooked.â
âJust her legs and you were in love?â
âI know. Crazy. But it wasnât just that. I felt like Iâd been struck by lightning. My knees got wobbly, I couldnât hear anything, I had tunnel vision, couldnât see anything or anybody but her. Man, I was fucked. I wouldâve done anything just to sit next to her. Maybe touch her arm while we were talking. You know? Like sharing a laugh?â
âWhatâs her name?â
âHer only flaw: Gretchen. Can you imagine an angel named Gretchen? I donât think I once called out her name during⊠well, sex.â
âI used to date a guy named Chuck.â She threw back her head as though she were having an orgasm and moaned, âFuck me, Chuck. Oh, fuck me, Chuck!â
In the mirror, I could see the lesbianâs faces getting pinched with annoyance.
âYeah, you know what I mean. Anyhow, we were inseparable after that night. For two years--right up until two weeks ago. You know, this is the first time Iâve left the house since then. Sheâs stopping by my house to pick up the rest of her stuff right now. I hope she doesnât steal my dog. With my luck, sheâll take the dog and leave all those damn cats. You arenât a cat person are you?â
âWhy? Are you worried about lightning?â
I turned my face away and fiddled with my lighter.
âIâm sorry,â she said. âI was just kidding.â She put her hand on my shoulder. âReally. Bad joke.â
I turned back. âDonât worry about it. Itâs just still a little raw. Well, I guess I should go before I need that cab.â
âUm, you better wait. I think Jimmyâs bringing another round.â
âJimmy, you fucker. Are you going to pay for the cab?â
Jimmy winked at me as he left the drinks. âOn me,â he said.
âThe drinks or the cab?â, I asked, but Jimmy was already gone. âI guess Jimmy thinks Iâve been moping around enough.â
âTell me one of the best things about her.â
âWell, sheâs really kind. This might sound a little, I donât know, sappy, but on our first real date together, just the two of us, we went to the blues fest in Bay St. Louis. Have you been? Of course not. You just moved here. Anyhow, itâs this big outdoor festival with lots of bands youâve probably never heard of, and lots of crawfish. Anyhow, we were walking around listening to the music and talking and we saw this blind guy with a seeing eye dog. She walked up to him and touched his elbow to get his attention and asked if she could pet his dog. She asked him! Most people just walk up and pet the dog. I guess they figure heâs blind, heâll never know.
âSo he agrees and she squats down to pet the dog. She looks up at me and she was so⊠happy. Just petting this dog. She always had this look on her face. Like she had just tasted something delicious--a really good peach, or a mango.â
I lapsed into silence and she let it be for a while.
âAnd you thought your heart would burst.â
I looked at her. âYeah.â
âWhat else?â
âWell, I was working nights⊠Listen, I donât think I should share this. Itâll probably offend you.â
She waved at me as though she were directing traffic. Go through the intersection. So I went on.
âAlright, but stop me if⊠OK. So I was working nights, tending bar, and she worked days, so we didnât see each other that much. Well, on the weekends, when I got home at, like, eight in the morning, I would find her on the bed, naked and masturbating. Sheâd hear my car and crank up the vibrator. Sheâd always be laying on her stomach with her ass towards the bedroom door. She wouldnât wait for me to take a shower or anything. So weâd go at it with me reeking of stale beer and cigarettes.â
Lisa leaned toward me and asked if I wanted to go to her place for a drink.
âI donât think so,â I said. âIâm, uh, well, Iâm not ready for all that yet.â
âSeriously. Iâm just asking you over for a drink and to talk. You seem to need to get a lot of this off your chest. Plus, itâll save you cab fare.â
Her apartment was neat, but under-furnished. Instead of a couch she had a big mattress in the living room and there were no pictures on the wall and no lamps. The overhead light in the kitchen was the only light on, but it was enough to brighten the living room enough to see.
âPardon my apartment. I havenât had time to get anything done with it,â she called from the kitchen. âJust have a seat on the mattress-couch and make yourself at home. Beer OK?â
âYep.â I sat down on the mattress and wondered what I was getting into.
Lisa brought me a beer and said, âListen. Iâve got to change. This skirt wonât do for sitting on a mattress.â
I sipped my beer and looked around. âYou know, this isnât a real good neighborhood.â
âYeah, I found that out. My carâs already been broken into. I need to find another place, but I signed a year lease.â
âI can get you out of it. I know the owner. Poker buddy of mine.â
When she came out of the bedroom, she was wearing big, drawstring sweatpants and a tight, white tank top. I could see the dark of her nipples through the thin fabric, but I tried not to stare.
âIs he a shark?â
âShe. No, definitely a fish, but I gave her back some of her money one night when she got carried away. You never know when youâll need a favor.â
Lisa plopped down next to me. I watched her breasts bounce and her nipples harden as they slid against the fabric.
âHow much did you give back that you can get her to break leases?â
âA grand.â
âGood Lord, Andy! How much did you win?â
âEnough more that I didnât notice a thousand.â I looked at her face. âLisa, whatâs your ethnic background?â
She had been about to take a sip from her beer, but she stopped in the middle of raising it and turned to me.
âDoes it matter?â
âNo, no. Itâs not like that. Iâm just curious. You look different from anyone Iâve ever seen.â
âGuess.â
âI donât know. Your eyes look sort of Vietnamese, but your skin tone is definitely not Asian. Maybe African or Indian, I donât know. I really couldnât say.â
âYouâre pretty close. My mother is French Vietnamese, and my fatherâs mother was black and his father was white. Italian. Will that be a problem for me in Mississippi?â
âMaybe. Not on the Coast, but theyâre a little different up North, Iâm told. I havenât spent that much time north of I-10, so I really couldnât say, but beauty seems to earn a lot of tolerance everywhere.â
She smiled at that, and we sipped and smoked for a while in silence.
âListen, tell me more about Gretchen. When you came home from work? What was it like? Wild and wooly or mellow and loving?â
âWild. I didnât tell you everything. You know how I said sheâd be masturbating?â
She nodded.
âSitting next to her there was always a tube of lubricant. When she heard me approach the bed, sheâd stretch her hands out in front of her and hold the vibe inside with muscle control. Iâve never seen anything like it⊠Do you want me to go on? Iâm a little embarrassed.â
âNo. Go ahead. I feel like Iâm learning something.â
âWell, Iâd kneel over her on the bed. Did I mention that she almost always had a blindfold tied around her eyes? Anyhow, Iâd tie her hands to the rail on the far side of the bed, then Iâd climb off of her and lube up my finger and⊠Well, you get the idea. And use the vibrator on her pussy and clit. ThenâŠâ
I looked at Lisa and she was staring at me with her beer bottle resting against her lower lip and her mouth just slightly open. I could see her tongue.
âTell me,â she said, then she swallowed.
I squirmed a little on the mattress and said, âYou know. We tried it fairly early in our relationship. She hadnât cared for it before me, but Iâd had a girl that was crazy for it, so I knew what I was doing. Long story short, she kind of liked it at first, then grew to love it. Afterwards, weâd take a shower and make love all day. But the first time was almost always like that. Anonymous and usually kind of rough. Sheâs a wild girl.â
âThatâs not so wild. What was it about her that made her so wild?â
âWell, if she had been at Jimmyâs tonight, she would have teased those lesbians mercilessly. Sheâd turn to face them and spread her legs, but not quite wide enough for them to see anything. Sheâd wriggle in her chair as though she were getting wet and open her legs very briefly. Just enough for them to see her white cotton panties. Eventually, sheâd go to the bathroom and take them off and stuff them into my jacket pocket, subtly making sure that they could see what sheâd done. Then, right before we left, sheâd spread her legs wide open while looking them dead in their faces, but they wouldnât notice her watching because theyâd be staring at her pussy. Then, when we got outside, sheâd scream with laughter, but Iâd know that she was dripping.â
I donât think Lisa knew it, but she was absently circling her nipple with the back of her thumb and she had gotten it rock hard. Her eyes were dreamy as I watched.
âI shoulda done that,â she murmured as I leaned over to kiss her neck.
She turned to kiss me, but I pulled away. âWait, wait, I canât. Iâm sorry. I have a thing for necks andâŠâ
âNo, itâs OK.â
Lisa got up to get a couple more beers. I could tell by the way she walked that she was aroused. Her hips were liquid and she swung her ass just a little bit. When she came back I could see a spot of wetness at the crotch of her sweats.
âWas Gretchen bi? I mean, did she ever sleep with women?â
âSort of. Did you notice the lesbian at the table with the fuchsia hair?â
âYeah. She was tough to miss. She looked like she had a nice figure under those baggy clothes.â
âShe does. One night, Gretchen and I were at the bar and, as usual, she was teasing lesbians. Anyhow, when she went to the bathroom, Julia, thatâs her name, the one with the crazy hair, followed her. I saw her, but I figured Gretchen had gotten herself into it, she could get herself out. Plus I was kind of turned on and I couldnât really stand up at the time. So, apparently, in the bathroom, Gretchen let Julia pull her panties off and keep them. They started kissing and groping a little until Julia was really worked up. Then Gretchen told Julia that she could have her if she came home with us and let me have my way with her. Julia, who is definitely lesbian, was taken aback, so Gretchen ran her finger up and down her slit, then let Julia lick her juices off.
âUnderstand that I didnât know what was going on in the Ladyâs. I was just sitting at the bar waiting. I mean, when they came out, I could tell that something had happened, but I didnât know what and the girls didnât let on.â I paused and sipped my beer. âUntil Gretchen and I got to the parking lot. We were kissing and everything, leaning against the car when all of a sudden I felt a hand on me.â