You know the slogan: Meet me at MIDNIGHT? Big wigs and the
movie stars haunted the place for years. It’s all about her.
She was as mean as she was beautiful. She was mean because
she had a weakness, and she defended herself before it was exposed. Only she
wasn’t too good at it – the
hiding, not the defending. Nothing wrong with her Defense.
I took a seat, and tested it:
He said he met some blonde at this bar.
So I’m supposed to be this some blonde?
Not to me, it’s just what he said.
Oh? And what am I to you?
A blonde female Caucasian, 5’7’’, about one …
Be careful with this next number, mister.
…twenty.”
“Eighteen, but close enough. What else did this guy say
about ‘ said blonde’ ?”
It was a one night stand, doesn’t remember much, but that
you had…
What?
…a good mouth.
Pig.
Sorry.
Not you, him.
I assumed so.
I asked for it.
Trouble?
That too.
He said you were very inebriated. Sloppy Drunk, was his exact term.
I do that – I’m a blackout drunk. One of my many
shortcomings.
Self pity another one?
Up yours. Who are you to…?
Sorry, you’re right. I had no right crossing that line, but
if I could venture a guess I suspect a foul mouth might be another...
Yeah, but that’s not what he said, is it?
Quite the opposite.
Gawd, I am so embarrassed…no, ashamed…so ashamed of myself. I’m behaving like a whore, and
I’m too old for that.
No one’s perfect, we…
No, no platitudes, please. I know how I act sometimes, and
I deserve what I get. Just another in a long line of losers…
I don’t know the rest of the line, but you pegged this guy.
Apparently I did a lot more than that.
According to him, yes, you did. And you can’t remember?
I remember meeting the guy but…no.
Is it possible you were drugged?
A Mickey? I suppose, but given my history…Gawd, why am I
telling all this to you? You really must think me awful.
I don’t judge. That’s not my job. That is usually left up to
the magistrate in this town.
Okay. But
you are human, right ? You must have opinions...
Which I try to keep to
myself.
…but sometimes unsuccessfully.
…sometimes unsuccessfully. That certainly is not the case
when I’m working, however.
And this is work?
It’s not hard work, but it is employment, yes.
So I can’t buy you a drink?
No. And I thought you had a problem with that combination;
men and drink.
Strangers, I have a problem with strangers. You aren’t a
stranger, are you?
We just met. You don’t know anything about me. We have had
a, (looks at watch) …not even a ten minute conversation.
I just offered to buy you a drink, not give you head…
Ah-ah. See? There you
go. One thing leads to another. Let’s leave it and both get back to the
topic-at-hand, shall we? Describe this guy, if you will…
If I can, you mean
to the best of…
To the best of my abilities, under the circumstances?
Well?
Dark. I like them dark. And no that’s not for your sake,
either, it’s just a preference.
I believe it.
Six …six two…but thin. Not skinny, more….gaunt.
White, Latin, fair skinned black? Mediterranean, Middle Eastern?
Not Black. Not Latino. Maybe Italian…Spanish…maybe Middle
Eastern, but not just-off-the-boat. Not off-the-rack, either. This guy was
Uptown US of A. Smooth, cocky. No actor, just the real deal. Wait a minute. If
he told you I was some slut, then how come you don’t know what he looks like?
He talks, and word gets around.
Aw…Gees…
Bartender told me. I had him call me when you came back to
the bar. He said you two had your share that night.
“Come back? You knew I would? They…we…always do,
don’t we,” while shooting an icy stare the
bartender’s way, causing him to go briskly about his business, shining bottles.
He says he told no one else…only me, and only because I
asked. That, and he didn’t much like the guy.
You pay him?
I tipped him. Difference. Nothing was promised.
Nothing is ever promised, but certain assumptions are
made.”
Is that how it is?
What…what do you mean exactly?
Man buys you a drink…
What? Are you kidding? (…her
laugh, hearty, naughty.) One-thing-leads-to-another, Love. That night it
was way past a drink…past five or
six drinks. That’s usually where the shady area begins…just before nightfall.
Nightfall?
When things start to go dark…
So somewhere in the process of downing at least six drinks,
did you ever pause to relieve yourself.
What do you think?
How many times?
I…uh..
Don’t remember
Hell no.
…but more than three?
Probably.
So it was probable he sat alone with your drinks, or
refreshed the glass on the table.
Sure. If I’d known the outcome, I would have slipped him
one when he went all those times…
He left frequently….
At one point I thought he preferred the men’s room to mine…
But you were mistaken.
Once again.
Okay, I’ll match you. I’ll have that drink after all.
Thought you were working. Looking to get laid?
Looking to figure a few things out. The rest is not in the
cards…but it is in the contract.
No fraternizing with trollops?
All this, and you went to law school too?
Dennis! Come here, Dennis. You little dick, Dennis. Get me
and this gentleman…no need to introduce him to you, Dennis….two Rob Roys. That
okay with you Slugger?
I was thinkin’ Roy Rodgers, but what the heck, bring on the Robs.
Tear up that contract, honey. I’m three drinks ahead of you.
That’s why it’s kept in a vault, baby. And that’s also why
we are stopping at one more. Don’t want to be in that shady area tonight.
Dennis arrives with drinks. “Next round is coffee, Dennis.
Thanks.”
“Snitch,” she hissed
at him, “talking to cops…”
“He’s no cop, Glo. He’s private.”
The drink caught me flush in the face, a reaction I should
have considered but did not.
“A private…
…Investigator.
Private Prick!
You know, I think it’s 'Dick'...
“Believe me, it’s Prick! You got some fuckin' nerve..." and with that she rose
and staggered defiantly toward the elevator lobby.
Guess I just saw her mean streak coming…and going. Either way, It was a
thing of beauty,
She walked to the elevator – and presses the button - she was going UP…we were in
the penthouse, the Midnite Sky …but this was a second elevator, off in small
alcove of it’s own. He catches the door before it closes. She holds a key
dangling from a red ribbon.
“Private elevator…from here on”
she said, and the suggestion hung there like the key.
To where? What’s beyond the Midnite Sky?
Maybe Heaven.
…and maybe Hell?
Hahhah very
clever.
^ UP ^
Afterwards we stood on the rooftop balcony, sharing the view and a cigarette, which is another temptation I thought I beat...
Her jasmine melding with the drift rising from the chopstick kitchen next door. I was hungry and she knew it.
