Purgatory Blues (2013), page 9
He could feel his body rocking back and forth and he hadn’t been in complete command of his limbs for some time. “Just a little pick-me-up”, he thought to himself.
There was only one stall and it was occupied. He wasn’t about to stand around just doing nothing so he decided that he’d use the urinal wall to relieve himself. When he finally broke the seal on his bladder he pissed like a racehorse. Andy let out a loud “aaaaah” in satisfaction as he released his fluids.
He began to take in his surroundings while he unburdened himself. It was then that he heard voices along with the odd sniff and cough coming from inside the stall. He couldn’t really make out what they were saying. After all, he wasn’t in the best condition for clandestine operations. Sneaking around and listening to whispered conversations was a game for the sober. If he’d been going undercover as a drunk, then it would’ve been perfect. At that moment all he was concerned with was keeping his aim straight.
His best guess though, was that there were at least two people inside who were putting something up their noses. Normally he’d have had no problem with that, but with the commotion that those people were making, they were obviously inexperienced. They were going to create a bad reputation for the establishment as well as heighten awareness that people were using substances on the premises. He decided that the situation called for a remedy.
When he was done with his bladder he washed his hands and his face before he put on the meanest, most authoritative look he could and stepped to the door of the stall. He knew it might take a little bit of concentration, he was still quite drunk and he’d have to focus if he was going to make his act convincing.
He balled his fist and banged on the door three times. In his most commanding voice he shouted, “You people in the stall, open up right now!” The banging on the door was followed almost immediately by a small shriek from what Andy assumed must be a young lady.
He heard the girl’s voice say, “No you take it!” Seconds later he heard a boys voice saying, “coming”.
As soon as the latch on the door retracted, Andy pushed the door inward in time to see a frightened young man, probably no older than nineteen years old, shove something into the right pocket of his jeans. There was a young woman as well, looking even more scared than the boy, standing slightly behind him.
For about five seconds, Andy just stood there and stared at both of them. They looked back and then away, feeling incriminated, looking afraid and as if they had no clue as to what to do next. “Hand it over”, Andy said, breaking the silence and gesturing with his hand out.
“I…” the young man faltered, sniffed and then continued. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, we’re going to play that game?” Andy said, feigning anger at the boy’s deceit. He stepped forward and reached for the boy’s pocket.
They both recoiled in fear and the boy began to say, “Hey, look…”
Andy stopped him by pointing at the kid’s face barely two inches from his nose, he’d stopped talking even before Andy said “shut up”, in a very controlled and threatening manner. He reached into the boys pocket and didn’t have to go far to make contact with what felt like a little plastic bag. It was the familiar tough plastic with squared edges.
He pulled it out to reveal a little clear packet containing an off-white, slightly brownish powder. “Not very stealthy there Romeo”, Andy said to the boy.
The boy hurriedly began to speak in his defense, “that’s not ours, it’s…”
Andy put his hand up and the boy fell silent, “I told you to shut up, possession is nine tenths anyway”. He turned to the girl and asked, “What’s your involvement in this?”
She didn’t know what to say. They’d had no time to come up with a story. She made eye contact just once before she welled up with tears.
“This is going to be fun”, Andy thought. He could see that these children had no idea what they were doing and that this was probably their first time, a good scare was all that they needed, so that’s what Andy would give them.
“Look at me”, Andy said to both of them. They kept their heads down but used their eyeballs to keep contact. They were like puppies cringing from a newspaper. “You’re not wriggling your way out of this. We saw the whole thing on camera. You’re both looking at two years minimum”. He left the words to marinate in their brains, he let them both soak in the juices of consequences and ramifications.
“But…” Andy said with a gentler tone of voice, “you’re both kids, and by the look of it, barely out of high school. I don’t want to ruin your lives. Let’s say you made a mistake. Let’s say that I’m in a forgiving mood. Let’s say there was a chance I’d let you walk out of here…you’re going to go straight home and never do this again right?”
A look of relief washed over both their faces. “Thank you sir”, the boy said in muted tones. The girl also managed to echo a “thank you”, between sobs.
“This shit will kill you, so get smart”, Andy added, he was beginning to take pity on them and also beginning to feel a lot older than his years. He thought he sounded like a TV special. It wasn’t like him to want to discipline people of that age. He didn’t want to go too easy on them either, the point was to make sure they never used again. “I’ve still got the camera footage, so if you ever step out of line again, I’ll show it to your parents”, Andy warned, “now, get out of here”, he said as he allowed them out of the stall.
They needed no further invitation and promptly made for the exit. Just as the boy was almost through the door, Andy grabbed him by the shoulder, “hey, where’d you get this stuff?” he asked.
“There was a black guy with a red shirt and a red cap outside, he said his name was Michael”, the boy offered hurriedly.
Andy nodded to himself and pushed the boy out. He went in to the stall and had two small lines to get himself back up to par. “Hypocrite”, he thought to himself and shook his head.
When he finally made his way to the bar Sharon was already busy with some other patrons. She saw Andy coming up and pointed to his drinks at the furthest end of the counter. As he threaded his way through the crowd he was patted on the back several times while people said things like “good show last night man”, and “awesome gig last night dude”.
Andy smiled and nodded, offering the occasional “thanks”, or other such pleasantry. At that point he could barely even recall having played the show that everyone seemed to be talking about. When he eventually made it to his various beverages, all neatly laid out, he drank down half his beer in one go.
As he set the bottle down on the long wooden slab, he felt Sharon lightly scratch his hand with her well manicured nails, “what took you so long? You’re not scaring my customers away are you?” She asked with an inviting smile on her face.
“Just had to give a couple of kids a talking to”, Andy answered. “The place is looking good, new TV’s?” he asked as he looked around at the changes in decor.
“Yeah”, she said with a tired sigh, “clientele’s kinda screwed up now, I had to take out a loan for those. This neighborhood’s changing, there’s all this construction that’s going on. You saw the mall that’s coming up?”
“Uh huh”.
“Well, I lost all my daytime regulars from the apartment building they demolished to put Isengard up there. Students playing pool and listening to good tunes isn’t my extra money anymore. During the day I’ve got fat construction workers who want to catch up on sport while they sit in my bar and nurse one drink for two hours”, Sharon said with a raised eyebrow, “that means that these guys”, she added looking out at the crowd, “are my bread and butter now”.
“Heavy”, Andy said, “how’s the stereotypical lewd construction worker conduct? You getting called pretty names and having your ass grabbed?”
Sharon chuckled, “they’re okay for the most part, now and then you get a real special kind of moron coming in but you could say that about any crowd”.
“That’s certainly true”, Andy said as he looked in the general direction of a particularly loud customer whose antics seemed to be embarrassing all his friends. The guy’s voice made Andy’s brain feel like it was being massaged by a cheese grater.
“He’s fine”, Sharon said while she stroked Andy’s arm, “loud but harmless. Speaking of having asses grabbed though, you wanna come back into the office with me for ten minutes? I wanna show you something”.
“What about the bar?”
“Jen will be fine for a little while without me”, Sharon said, referring to her sister, who was at that moment involved in a simmering debate with a group of boisterous twenty-something year olds about the finer nuances of shot pouring. Their blood relation was evident, but Jen was the younger, brunette version of Sharon.
“Lead on”, Andy said with a smile as she raised the counter door. They both picked up a shot each out of the two that Sharon had left for Andy and downed them before she took him by the hand and walked of.
The office was a small room with a desk in the middle of it and chairs on either side, there was no discernible order to the papers and bills strewn about it and there were no windows. The rest of the office was cluttered with boxes and shelves carrying various knick-knacks. On one such shelf was an amplifier and a computer that controlled the bar’s music. None of that mattered to them though. As soon as the door closed they went at each other like animals in heat.
Their lips went to work on each other’s while their hands took care of the rest. In mere seconds their clothes lay scattered on the floor and he was inside her. Her thighs were wrapped around him like a vice with her back against the door. She tasted like fresh peaches. He tasted of liquor and smoke. Their rhythm was slow at first, gradually getting faster as their bodies responded to one another. This wasn’t romance. This was just fucking.
Soon Sharon’s moans became yells. Andy had never been very talkative during sex, but as long as he’d known Sharon, she’d always been the sort to give a running commentary of the activity. In between shouting “YES”, she’d control his performance with commands like “harder” and “faster”, always making sure to let him know when she was approaching an orgasm.
Andy eventually had to reach back for the volume knob and turn up the amplifier to camouflage Sharon’s screams. Every thrust caused a loud thump against the door which in turn caused Sharon to switch to the “oh my god” phase. Her hands began to claw at Andy’s back and he winced from the bruises of the previous day.
The pain spurred him on, he pulled her from the door and threw her on to the desk, to which Sharon screamed, “Fuck me!” Andy vigorously obliged.
They went back a phase to “YES”, but at least his back was safe for the moment. He picked her up off the desk and put her over it face first. He took her from behind. They were back to “oh my god!”
After a minute in this position Sharon began to scream, “I’m gonna come!” It was the signal Andy needed to turn the volume up even more. He picked up the pace for the home stretch. Soon enough Sharon cried out “I’m coming” and something else that wasn’t a word but had the height of pitch to shatter glass. He felt her legs wobble, her back arch and her body tense. They timed it perfectly and orgasmed together.
Drained and spent, Andy turned the volume down back to the normal level and then sat down against the door. Sharon joined him. She kissed him deeply and then sat with her back against his chest. She took both his arms and crossed them over her. “It’s been too long”, she said, “I really needed one of those”.
“Glad I could help”, Andy said.
She took his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers, looking up as she did to kiss him on the chin, tasting his sweat. “You’ve been gone for months, I had to take advantage of you while I could”.
“I’ve been a little busy”, Andy said apologetically. The truth was that he didn’t really know what was going on with the two of them. He enjoyed her company. He felt that being with her was easy. There was no judgement, no bullshit. They talked, but not about anything so personal that it made him uncomfortable. He’d never spoken to her about Elsa and she’d never asked. A few months earlier it’d gotten to a point where he thought that things had to either go somewhere or end. He chose for them to end, he just hadn’t bothered to inform Sharon. To Andy, it was just sex. Having feelings for her was meant he was cheating on Elsa.
Most of the time he felt like Sharon was a Band-aid that he was just afraid to rip off. They’d met two months after Elsa’s funeral. He made the comment about her looking like Sharon Stone and they’d had a good laugh about it. He still had never called her by real name even though he’d heard it from other patrons. It was their private little joke.
Sharon on the other hand had never said his name at all, but she too, had heard who he was from other patrons. What she knew of his life she’d gleaned from rumors and gossip. In some ways she felt that giving whatever this activity of theirs was a name, would make it real enough that somehow it could be taken away.
She was running a failing business in an economic recession, a business she’d inherited from her late father seven years prior. She’d dropped out of completing her degree so that she could keep a roof over her sister’s head and put her through school. She was no stranger to sacrifice. Andy didn’t come with strings attached. He was just hers.
They were each other’s comfort zones. At first Andy would come by every couple of days when it was quiet and they’d sit around talking about movies, books, places they’d been…anything other than what was really going on in their lives.
A few months after that, on one insanely cold winter’s night, they found themselves alone with each other because everyone else had the common sense not to go outside. She’d closed the bar early that evening. A bottle of whiskey later, they’d found themselves in bed together. It had been going on ever since…this nameless, comforting distraction from life.
“What happened?” She asked, noticing his bruises.
“Zigged when I should’ve zagged”, Andy replied while he stroked her shoulder.
“Yeah, gotta watch out for those zigs. I zigged once, didn’t end up with any bruises though”, she said, realizing that perhaps she’d gotten too personal.
They sat there holding each other for another minute till Andy broke the silence, “we’d better get back out there, I hate warm beer and Jen’s probably knee deep in customers”.
They both stood and dressed in silence. It didn’t quite feel like there was an elephant in the room…but there was something not quite right…something unspoken, though neither of them would say anything. It wasn’t part of the deal. Their relationship was this and nothing else. When they’d finished clothing themselves, Sharon reached for the doorknob but Andy stopped her by gently placing his hand on hers. He held her by the waist and slowly turned her around, she kept her head down the entire time.
They stood there for seconds that lasted an eternity, their bodies so close together, yet feeling so far away. He lifted her head with a finger beneath her chin till their eyes met. It was like they were seeing each other not for who they were but for what they could be. Andy wondered if perhaps it was time for a new deal, he wanted it and he could sense that she wanted it too. He didn’t know why, it just seemed like the thing to do. He kissed her, but not in any way that they’d kissed before. This was different. This meant something. In this moment it felt like they were making some sort of commitment to each other.
Andy slowly stopped and pulled away from her, “now, we can go”, he said with a smile.
Sharon smiled back at him knowing that something had changed, with renewed purpose she opened the door and stepped out of the office.
When Jen saw her exiting the office she stared at her wide eyed and mouthed “what the fuck!?”
It had probably been close to thirty minutes and she was barely able to keep up with everyone at the bar.
“Coming!” Sharon sang out, immediately getting back to business as usual.
Andy made his way back to his seat at the bar but before he could sit down, Sharon was there placing a cold beer in front of him, “there you are sir”, she said with a little wink, play acting that they didn’t know each other.
Andy pulled out some money to pay for the round he’d had, Sink wasn’t the kind of place where you could run a tab. “Don’t worry about it, it’s on me”, Sharon said dismissively.
“Hey, I’m not some kind of gigolo that you can pay off in alcohol for services rendered”, Andy said, teasing her.
“Sure you are”, Sharon countered, blowing him a kiss.
Andy knew he’d be losing the argument so as soon as her back was turned he stuffed the cash in to the tip jar.
Just then a young man who looked to be in the Goth scene came up to Andy. “Hi Andy, I caught the show yesterday”, he said, offering him his hand, “you guys rule!” He looked like any one of the other kids that Andy had seen attending the local metal gigs. He might’ve met him before, but then again, he might’ve not. He hoped the kid wouldn’t expect him to remember his name.
The safe thing to do was shake his hand and use any term of familiarity without openly admitting that he had no idea who he was, “hey buddy, what’s up?”
As the kid began speaking he led Andy over to their table and offered him a seat. “We were talking just now and I was wondering, how do you get your sound? I’m using a Marshall combo unit and I’ve got shit loads of pedals and stuff but I can’t get that raw, warm sound that you get. I’m not sure if it’s because you’re using a Gibson and I’m using an Epiphone that’s making the difference but I’m hoping it can’t be something like that. What’s the secret man?”
After sitting down Andy first acknowledged everyone at the table, there were four generic looking kids and they all looked pretty much like the first one. “Hey, guys”, said Andy before continuing, “I think you answered your own question right there. You said ‘raw’. The sound is raw. It’s the guitar straight in to the amp. It’s a Gibson classic directly into a Marshall Mode Four half stack. Use the amp overdrive. I’ve always felt that using a ton of pedals just kills your tone. I don’t scoop the mids either. Just turn that fucker up to eleven and let the tone of the instrument and the head unit come through. No secret at all, well, maybe having a lot of gain helps but that’s about it”.
