Previously, on A Young American…
To start at the beginning, go here.
There I was, free as a bird, and single as a prisoner. First order of business: Sleep. So I slept, for almost a full day. I was out until 4 PM Tuesday. I’m convinced I would have slept longer had there not been a pounding at the door. “All right, all right.” I wrestled myself out of bed, beelining my way to the door. When I opened it, there stood Martha, with Thommy next to her. “A little early for a dance, isn’t it?”
“Can I come inside?” She was scared.
“Sure.” She walked in before I could finish my one word sentence. “What’s goin’ on?”
“It’s Albert. I think he knows.”
“Knows what?” She looked at me like I was an idiot.
“What we did!”
“Danced half naked?”
“Among other things.”
“Well there was no penetration, so technically…”
“This isn’t funny, Logan.”
“What? Is he going to hurt you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She trailed off as she finished that sentence. This is why I don’t get involved in this shit. Stupid dick!
“Okay. Where is he?”
“He’s downstairs. I told him I was going to walk Thommy.”
“What makes you think he knows?” I asked, eyebrow raised.
“He’s been acting suspicious. I’m also a horrible liar.”
“I’m gonna go talk to him.” I spun around and put a hand on the doorknob. She ran up and grabbed my shoulder, pulling me around.
“Wait, what are you going to say?”
“I’m gonna tell him what we did.”
“You can’t do that!” Before she could argue her point, I opened the door and there was Al. His fists were white.
“Hey, I was just about to come see you.” He was nice enough to let me finish my sentence before bringing a sucker punch down into my eye. I saw it coming, but a part of me wanted to give him the first blow. I did give his wife the same courtesy, after all.
“Al!” Martha ran up and shoved him a few centimeters back. “Stop it!”
“I gave you that one.” I said, walking up to him. “You only get one. Now you can leave, or you can try your luck.” He wanted to take another swing. I gave him props for his control. After a few hot breath moments he glanced at his wife and stormed down the hallway. Martha examined my eye briefly, mouthed that she was sorry, and took off after her failing husband.
“You win, sport.” I muttered, touching the swelling skin. When I shut the door and turned around, there was the dog. Sitting and staring at me, wagging his tail on my carpet. I could already predict that fucking evening.
Shouting, crying, arguing, peaking with a nice apology fuck and then back to normal, until the lack of trust breaks that relationship in two. Why not spare the poor animal from witnessing it? I took Thommy for a real walk outside, phoning Charlie.
“Hey, let’s hit some bars tonight. Try to get some girls and shit.”
“What?! I thought you were dating that Tiffany girl?”
“Well, turns out she had AIDS.”
I pulled my phone away as he laughed, “Ahaha no she didn’t! What really happened? You guys were together for barely a week!”
“She went back to her boyfriend.” I had told him two truths, but he only believed the latter, which was fine by me.
“Well, I don’t have work tomorrow, so I could go out tonight. What time are you gonna come by?”
“I don’t know, maybe I’ll be in the city around eight.”
“All right, see ya then.” My eye must have blossomed into one hell of a shiner. When I met Charlie at Penn Station he made a face that made me think it was hanging out of its socket. “Holy shit!”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.” I said. We walked to the Irish pub across the street.
I had to get a few drinks in me, and what better place to do it than at an Irish Pub? We started off with a beer and a shot each, but I quickly moved on to a Jack and Coke and a shot, while he stuck with his beer.
“So she really does have AIDS?”
“Either that or she’s one hell of a fuckin’ tease.” I said, “but from the way that she was ridin’ that guy I’m pretty sure she hadn’t had any cartilage in her for a long, long time.”
We both laughed, and when I leaned backward I bumped the man next to me. “Hey watch it!” He said.
“Sorry, buddy.” I said, continuing back to Charlie.
“Hey!” I had forgotten this was New York, and I don’t just apologize, I have to be forgiven too.
“I think you owe me a drink.” I looked at his glass and saw that it was less than half full, but there was hardly a puddle around it.
“For knockin’ into me! You spilt some.”
“You sure you didn’t just drink it? I’m no scientist, but I’m almost positive that if something’s spilt, there’d be residue.”
“I don’t know who did your eye, but I’m betting you deserved it.”
“I sure did. Now how about finishing the other eye, Padre? I wouldn’t want to leave the bar without my make-up looking even.” He stood up and swung at me. I ducked and chucked my drink at him while Charlie and I ran out and down the block.
“What the hell was that?” Charlie heaved.
“Hey, how do you think I get so many good stories?” I shrugged. Charlie shook his head.
“Let’s move on to the next place. And don’t cause a scene there.”
“All right, mom.” We spent the next few hours walking into a place, ordering a drink, maybe two, and moving on. None of the bars were especially pleasing to the eye, not that I could tell. There were hardly any girls at the bars, although it was Tuesday, so maybe that had something to do with it.
I went outside for a quick smoke break, and eyed the women who walked by, of which there were plenty. A young one slammed right into me. It was probably my fault. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She said.
“Not a problem. You know,” I slurred, “this is a fine establishment and has many great drinks. Maybe you’d like to come inside and I could introduce you to one.” She glanced inside.
“I’ll be bombarded by drunk men trying to hide their boners.”
“And that’s perfectly reasonable. However, If any of them tries to lay a finger on you, I’ll give them,” I pointed to my eye, “What I got.” She laughed, then looked back inside.
“All right, you’re buying?”
“Absolutely.” I said. I opened the door for her and she strolled in. I brought her to the table where Charlie sat.
“Hey, you found one!” he said.
“I sure did! What’s your poison m’lady?”
“A White Russian would be good.” She said, licking her lips. I went up to the bar and ordered two White Russians. Charlie came up.
“Dude, you gotta go protect that girl! Someone’s gonna come by and take her.” Charlie shook his head, “I don’t think that’s a problem. How bad is your vision right now?”
“It’s not that bad.” I replied. “I can tell she’s a knockout.”
“No, no she totally is.” He said, “But I’m just not sure how young she may be.” I glanced back again. She was in a short skirt and her bleach blonde hair bled into her matching shirt, and she was looking around the bar in a curious fashion.
“What are you going to do?” he asked. I walked over to her.
“Hey, the bartender said he needs to see your ID.”
She had a flash of fear, but it quickly turned into confusion, “Oh, I don’t have it on me.”
“You’re not 21 are ya?”
“You’re not 18 either, are ya?” I asked again.
Her head went a little lower. “No.” she mumbled.
Without any more needing to be said she got up and walked her tight under aged ass out the door. I walked back to Charlie, patting him on the back.
“Well, that’s twice tonight you’ve helped me avoid my Last Supper. I think it’s safe to rule you out as Judas.” The bartender slid me my White Russians, “Hey, come on man I don’t want this crap! Can’t you see I was trying to access some jailbait over there?”
“Not my problem. That girl’s always hangin’ around. You’re the first dumb shit that’s let her inside the bar.” I grabbed the drinks, which were my punishment for not noticing, and slid one to Charlie.
“Drink up, buddy!” We sat there looking like a couple of children drinking our chocolate milk desert before bedtime.
“I kinda like it.” Charlie said. I checked my watch, and fucking missed the last train out again.
“Hey, can I crash at your place? Or at least stay until the next morning train leaves.”
“I don’t know why you still live all the way out there, man.” He said.
“Yeah, me neither. Let’s go.” I said. We paid for our shit and made our way back to Charlie’s place, unsuccessful at capturing an escort for the evening. We spent the rest of the night finishing off his six-pack and watching Card Sharks. That Jim Perry was one nutty host. Just when I was about to fall asleep on the sofa, Charlie shook me, “Hey it’s almost time for your train to leave.”
“Wow, I guess I didn’t need to crash, then.” I got up and stumbled across the room, opening the door. “Well I’ll catch up with you later on.”
“All right, see ya later.” Charlie locked the door behind me and I felt my stomach rumble with hunger. This was a rare opportunity to grab myself some breakfast, and I remember Tiffany mentioning a place on 32nd and 8th that was supposed to be delicious. I forget what it’s called, as the rumor turned out to be some hoax, and the food was goddamned awful.
I got off the train at the next stop, and probably should have paid attention to where that stop was. Apparently I got off at 50th st. Fuck, I thought. I decided I could use the exercise and trudged down 8th Avenue. Along the way I noticed just how many high heeled, professional looking women walked along it.
If Broadway was a place for the street whores, then 8th Avenue was the place for the business whores. No skirt went higher than the knees and no cleavage whatsoever, not that it mattered: No cleavage was just as hot as almost bare. I felt like I was a human in a world of man-eating she beasts. These women stared at me with a look that was either hunger or anger.
Any moment I could have been attacked, taken advantage of, or maimed. All these prestigious, high end powerful business women and the clickity clack of their heels against the pavement reminded me of horses running across cobblestones. I arrived at the restaurant, and tried to open the door. Locked. Checked my watch, it was only 9:30, and the damn place opened at 10.
“City that never sleeps.” I mumbled. I had to meander some more, so I decided to take a walk around the block. As I was looking around, I noticed a small porno shop simply titled Erotica. I went inside and browsed; checking out the videos, sex dolls, play toys. They had so many DVD’s, and I just couldn’t help but wonder what sucker would actually purchase these things. Why hasn’t the Internet killed DVD’s in the porn industry? I noticed a set of stairs to a second floor. The oddly bright lights on the ground didn’t follow the steps, and when I looked up all I could see was darkness. “What’s up there?” I asked the grimy looking teller who probably only took this job because of the discounts.
“Live shows behind the glass.” He grunted. I walked up the stairs into the dark room. When I got to the top of the steps, black lights filled the area. Probably some cruel joke so guys could see their shame as they made their way back down the stairs. Of course, I was a man of little shame. It only seemed right that all the sexual tension built between the businesswomen on the street and myself be released on the glass of a nudy booth. I saw a woman in a turtleneck walk out of her booth and smile that fake smile at me. “Hey baby.” She said with that strong accent that I knew was European, just didn’t know where exactly.
“How much and what’s allowed?” I said, man on a mission.
“Well, it’s 20 dollars for me, and 10 for the machine. And you can masturbate while you watch.”
“Let’s do it.” Without hesitation I gave her 20 and we walked into our sides of the booth. I should have been nervous, but I was excited. She got ready while I pulled my dick out. Why am I doing this? This fuckin’ place is disgusting. My conscience had snuck up on me. The door handle was barely hanging on, the glass was dirty with God knew what, and the trash can had crusty, clumped up tissues in it. I was so afraid to touch anything.
“Whenever you’re ready, baby.” I hesitated before slipping the 10 in. When I did, the lights turned off on my side and transported to the other. The curtain slowly rose. Real suspenseful. When the curtain was up she stood posed like a statue locking eyes with me. “How you feeling?”
“Horny.” I had my dick out and in my hand.
“Ooh, I see that. It’s a big one, huh?” I knew they said that to everyone, but I also knew it was true. She slowly undid her top and bottom then sat on the high chair behind her, which had a pink towel on it, and spread her legs. Her pussy lips looked like someone had surgically attached slices of corned beef to them, but I didn’t look at it for too long. I kept my eyes on her face, which was her most attractive feature. She must have felt uncomfortable, because her eyes moved to my dick.
“You wanna fuck me baby?” I hated it when they talked. It felt so fake. Never had I had sex with a girl who said things like that. Still, I played along.
“You wanna fuck my mouth, baby?”
“Fuck, yeah.” She got on her knees and got up to the glass where my dick was. Now we were getting somewhere. She made motions of sucking and licking and started playing with her nipples. I was about to come.
Should I shoot it on the glass?
What if something bounces back onto me?
What if I get AIDS?
Shit, that can’t happen. Can it? Tiffany would know. The gate started to close. She said 10 min. but that was a Goddamn lie. “Come baby!” She said in the same urgent voice that belonged in an Indiana Jones movie. I went double time trying to make it before the curtain closed, which was much faster than opening.
I made the cut just as the curtain moved below her head, and I moved my dick over to the trashcan to finish it out. I still had a little on the tip of my dick, which covered my piss hole. “You okay in there, honey?”
“Yeah, if you wanna come help me out that’d be nice.” A piece of tissue paper slid under the door. Fucking bitch. After a few furious shake I decided to just piss it out into the can. When I got out, she was in her bikini and shot me that terrible smile. Hope you’re not trying to be an actress, lady.
“Come see me again, baby.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that.” I never went back to that one. Luckily the restaurant was finally open and I went in, sat down and ordered some coffee. Across from me, by the window, sat another lovely looking businesswoman with hair just short enough to where I still liked it. It hung just below her chin, almost wrapping around it like a bonnet.
It was black and thin, parted straight down the middle. Her eyes lightly coated with dark eye shadow that matched her deep blue suit with what looked like golden buttons on the front of the jacket, and her lips shined a beautiful ruby red. Her skin was the color of charcoal after it had been soaked in gasoline. She had on a pair of hoop earrings, plain white gold and no shiny, sparkling jewels attached, and two fancy rings on each hand.
She sipped her drink and stared outside with a smile on her face as she watched her fellow women in the streets. We were the only two in the place, and I picked up my cup and walked toward her. She was sipping on her coffee, and looked up at me. The mug was still in her mouth, and for a moment I was tongue-tied. Her eyes were brown.
“You know, I hear this place is pretty popular, and if that’s true,” I pointed at the door “then any minute now it’s gonna be packed full of people rushing in. So maybe we should sit together and give them some extra room. It’ll be our good deeds for the day.”
She gave me a blank stare, and I waited for her to holler for the manager. Then she laughed an astonishingly cute laugh that threw me for a loop. “Sure, I could use a good deed.” And her voice was undeniably sexy. Why did I have to go to that nudy booth?
“Great!” I sat down with my drink and stuck my hand out. She seemed like someone who wanted to do it proper. “I’m Logan.” She accepted my handshake.