by Grace Risata
I rolled my eyes, but I had to admit that it was funny. These guys were great to hang out with. I felt like I was fitting in pretty well.
We drove back toward the Grim Rock side of town and ended up at the Sailors Port bar. The parking lot was home to three motorcycles and about five cars. It seemed like a dive bar from the outside. Faded gray siding covered the small exterior. A large patio area was littered with cigarette butts and plastic chairs that had been tipped over. Two intimidating guys were smoking on either side of the entry door, like gargoyles standing watch over their castle. My guys walked in with no hesitation, so I followed them.
The interior of the place was actually quite spacious. A lengthy mahogany bar was straight ahead, with a dance floor to the right and pool tables to the left. The smell of sweat, vomit, and piss assaulted my nose. This was definitely not a high class place. I should have brought my hand sanitizer. I bet the bathrooms were awful!
My train of thought was interrupted when I heard my name being shouted from across the room. Irina was behind the bar motioning me over. I had to zig zag my way around tables to reach the bar. Rocky followed me and perched on a bar stool to my left, while the rest of the guys went to say hello to someone they apparently knew.
Irina looked incredible in tight black leather pants, a white low cut tank top with the word “BITCH” spelled out in sparkling rhinestones, and a pair of giant hoop earrings. As I approached her, I noticed that she was in the process of hiding a book behind the counter.
“What was that book?” I asked her. “I love to read. Maybe it’s something I’ve read before?”
She insisted it was nothing, but brought it out to show me anyway. She tossed her well-worn copy of “THE LUSTY SAILOR” onto the bar and guiltily declared, “I have a thing for romance novels. Especially ones that have pirates. Or sailors. Or Navy Seals. Or men in uniform.” That pretty much covered EVERY romance novel.
“So you like the smutty ones the best, huh? I’ve read tons of them too, but they’re so unrealistic,” I insisted.
“Most people read them as an escape, so they’re not supposed to be real. I like the sex scenes the best. No romance novel is any good unless it has hot sex scenes,” she explained.
“Irina! The cheesy sex scenes are the most unbelievable part! How many guys do you know that have sex four times in one night? After one time it usually goes limp until at least the next day. And all the stupid descriptive words they use....no one talks like that!! How many guys in real life go around talking about their swollen members or spilling their seed, not to mention girls discussing how their labia was throbbing? No one in real life uses those words. When was the last time you used ‘clit’ in conversation? NEVER! Those sex scenes are lame. If you can show me one good realistic sex scene, then I’ll be impressed,” I argued.
Rocky leaned his head into our conversation to ask me, “Did I just hear the word ‘labia’ thrown around? What the hell are you two talking about?” Irina and I shared a look and started laughing.
“See, I told you no one talks like that!” I had just proved my point.
“I like you, Violet, you make me laugh,” Irina said.
“You just like me because I got you a teapot.”
“That too,” she admitted.
The rest of the guys walked back to the bar and Irina poured shots for everyone. There were six shot glasses filled with a clear liquid on a tray and each of us took one. I wanted to ask what it was first, but I didn’t want to stand out as being a coward. I held my nose and downed the shot in one gulp. Big mistake. I started sputtering and gasping for air. My throat burned like it was on fire.
“What was that? It tasted like ASS!” I promptly exclaimed.
Irina grinned and replied, “That, my friend, was a shot of Olde Devil Gin made at Grim Rock distillery.” Oh no! Talk about putting my foot in my mouth. I slowly turned around to look at Rocky with a sheepish expression.
“Thanks, Violet, good to know we’re making a quality product. ‘ASS’ was exactly the flavor we were going for,” Rocky told me, looking very offended.
Irina poured five more shots and asked me what I wanted instead. “How about a beer? Do you have anything apple flavored?” I replied. That seemed safe. I didn’t like the taste of normal beer, but the apple ones went down smooth. If I drank one really fast then I got a nice buzz. Irina got me an apple beer and started passing out whatever was on tap for everyone else. Rocky shook his head and told her to skip him. He explained that he had a rough weekend and was still recovering. I guess that meant no backseat action on the way home. His words floated around in my head to remind me that there would be no repeat performance of Saturday.
Dmitry and Sergio took off to play a game of pool while Vasily went behind the bar to chat with Irina. I turned around, drank my beer, and examined the crowd. There were no other women in the whole place besides me and Irina. That was kind of strange. The men in the bar weren’t very impressive. I counted two by the jukebox, two more playing pool, and a few sitting at the opposite end of the bar. I tried to sit back, relax, and enjoy the moment. I was at a bar with my cool new friends and I just ate pancakes after shooting an AK-47. I need to do this type of crazy stuff more often. As I snapped out of my contemplation, I noticed my beer was already half gone. Rocky was still sitting next to me so I asked him if he was any good at pool.
“I’m fairly decent, why? Are you a pool shark?” he asked.
“No, I’m not really good at anything.” I was average at some things and awful at most everything else. I knew my faults. It was no big deal.
“I don’t believe that for a second, Violet. I’d say you’re good at a lot of things.” Before he could explain what that meant, one of my favorite songs came on the jukebox and I started to dance while standing at the bar. Irina tapped me on the shoulder and told me we should go dance. Sure, why not?
I followed Irina onto the dance floor. It was by no means anything fancy, just checkered black and white tiles. I held my beer in one hand and I threw my other hand up in the air to wave it around while I danced. Irina was good. I mean she was dressed to show off what she had and she was a natural beauty. All she really had to do was move in time to the music and she couldn’t go wrong. We were having a good time dancing, oblivious to the stares of every single man in the room. Dmitry and Sergio had finished their game and Vasily was tending bar in Irina’s absence. All eyes were on us. I finished my beer and put the empty bottle down on a nearby table when the song ended.
We walked back to the bar where the guys were sitting. Sergio nodded his head at me, pointed to Irina, and suggested, “I think you two should make out. Just kiss a little bit.”
I replied with, “I think you should kiss my ass.”
Irina gave me a high five and said, “That’s my girl.”
Instead of a new song coming from the jukebox, someone had plugged in a CD Radio and started some different music. I heard a familiar thumping of bass and stopped dead in my tracks. It was the song from Black Spider Revolution, from the food fest last weekend!
I panicked. “Irina, this song is---“
“I know, I saw Sergio’s video. Now would be a good time for a bathroom break,” Irina suggested as she led me off toward the bathroom. By this time the beer was starting to kick in and I was getting a little bit giggly.
“The beer is starting to hit me. I get tipsy after only one if I chug it really fast. I like the apple stuff. It goes down smooth!”
“Violet, focus here. This is serious. What’s going on between you and Rocky?”
“I wish I knew. Don’t tell him I told you this, but I think he’s awesome. True, sometimes he’s a dick. But sometimes, when it’s just the two of us and we’re talking, he can be so nice. I really like him and he makes me laugh. Don’t get me started on how great he kisses, but it doesn’t matter because he doesn’t like me back.” I needed another beer. I wanted to keep my buzz going. Maybe I should pee first.
“Violet, he DOES like you ba
ck. Trust me on that.”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s what everyone keeps saying...to trust them. Sergio told me that too. But how do you know that he likes me?”
“The first day I met you when I stormed in to the brewery, I was going to beat the shit out of you for daring to talk to my husband. Then I saw the way you looked at Rocky and the way he treated you in return. You were afraid of me and he was the one you sought out for help. To my amazement, he walked up behind you like he was ready to step in if I should try anything. He’s very protective of you, even tonight. He stayed on the stool next to you instead of joining Sergio and Dmitry at pool.”
“But Irina, how long have you known him? He told me that he was engaged to someone before but she ruined his life and that’s all he would say. You must have seen how he treated her. He must have loved her.”
“Violet, listen and listen good. I’ve known them for a while, from before we all moved here. Some bad shit went down in New York City. It’s not my place to tell you anything about Rocky’s past. I can tell you that there was no way he loved that whore. Not in the slightest bit. I knew her. She was no good. I see the way he looks at you. I’ve never seen him look at anyone like that before, especially not her. Sergio sees it too and he’s rooting for you. He told Vasily that he thinks Rocky is at odds with himself over what to do about you. He’s fucking stubborn as all hell. Most men are.”
“What should I do? Maybe another beer would help give us ideas?”
“Another beer would give you more courage, so we’ll get on that as soon as we leave the bathroom. Take my advice and do something to make him jealous. If he really wants you, then he will not share.” That sounded good. So did another beer.
We left the ladies room and I followed Irina back to the bar. She got a beer for herself and another one for me. I immediately chugged one-third of it, which was way too much and I started choking. So much for looking suave. Rocky asked me if I was okay.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m better then fine. How are you? You smell really goooood.”
Maybe I should take a moment to mention that when I’m drunk, I have no filter. I’m not a messy drunk or a mean drunk. I’m a talkative drunk. Any thoughts I’ve ever had just randomly pop into my head and I feel the need to share them. I continued talking to Rocky.
“I had a lot of beer really fast. It only takes one to get me buzzed and I’m really tipsy right now. This apple shit tastes good. Not like ass at all. I’m really sorry about that by the way. Maybe you could add some apple to your gin, huh?”
The vein on Rocky’s neck started to bulge again. Before I could further embarrass myself, Irina grabbed my hand and dragged me back onto the dance floor. We were dancing and she put her hand on my hips and we swayed to the music. She knew what she was doing, and it wasn’t long before a random guy dared to approach us. He must have been a regular at the bar and knew Irina was off-limits so he turned to me instead. I was the fresh meat. “Wanna dance, darlin?” he drawled.
“No, she does NOT.” Rocky had come up from behind and answered for me.
I turned to him and snapped, “Hey, are you cock-blocking me?”
“That’s it, you’re done!” Rocky picked me up and hauled me out of the bar. He was holding me in his arms like a man carries his lady over the threshold on their wedding night.
“What did you pick me up for?” I asked as I put my hands around his neck to hold on. “You have a really pretty face. If I knew you wouldn’t reject me right now, I would totally kiss your face.” I might have slurred that a little bit.
“You’re drunk,” Rocky said, stating the obvious.
“No, no. I had two beers really fast. Maybe actually one and a half. I’m not drunk. I just have a major buzz going right now. Do you know what happens when I get buzzed?”
“Let me guess, you get horny,” he answered as we made our way to the car.
“Nope, that was the wrong answer to the question. I’m actually always horny for you. The correct answer is that I just speak whatever I want and my brain thinks it and says it without running it through any pre-approval process. Pre-Approval Process. There are a lot of Ps in that sentence, huh?” I was on a roll.
I broke into a fit of giggles as Rocky opened the passenger door of Dmitry’s SUV and carefully put me inside. He got in and turned up the radio as we drove in the direction of my house.
The radio was loud, so I turned it off and explained, “Rocky, please give me your full attention. I’m going to one hundred percent regret what I’m about to say, but I probably won’t regret it until tomorrow, so ‘tomorrow Violet’ is going to have to handle that problem. ‘Today Violet’ just has to say this, ok?”
“Violet---“ Rocky started to speak but I interrupted him.
“No, please let me finish before I lose my liquid courage. Here’s the thing. I think you’re amazing. You’re fucking hot and totally cool…I realize that just made no sense because you can’t be hot and cold at the same time. You know what I mean. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I like you. A lot. But I don’t know if you like me back. You’re giving me mixed signals. You ask me to go to Coral City and hold my hand and ignore the Barbie sluts, not to mention all the shit we did in the backseat on the way home, but then you pull away and ignore me. You don’t want me, but you don’t want that dude in the bar to have me either. I can’t handle Romeo and Juliet bullshit. You know what that means? Romeo and Juliet stuff?”
“Something tells me you’d be happy to explain it to me,” Rocky ventured.
“Yes, I will. Romeo and Juliet died because they were too fucking stupid to tell each other about their plans. Like all those dumb fuck romance novels where the lady gets pregnant but doesn’t tell the dude because it’ll shame his family or she thinks he doesn’t want the baby. She does it to protect him, but he really does want the baby and wastes years searching for them. Or like when the guy has to leave town because he used to be a drug addict a long time ago but he got himself clean now and someone from his past is threatening to blackmail him, so he goes and abandons his girlfriend rather than have her find out. What the fuck is the matter with all those stupid son-of-a-bitches? All those problems could have been solved with honesty and communication. For fuck’s sake, tell the guy you’re pregnant and if he leaves you then get child support and move on. Tell the lady that you were a drug addict and someone’s threatening to expose your secret. Grow up, fake book people! Wow, how did we get to my house so fast?”
Rocky muttered, “I might have broken the speed limit to find an end to this conversation.” He held out his hand and demanded, “Give me your house key.” I handed it over and he carried me into the house. I could get used to this new method of transportation.
“I think I was still explaining the Romeo and Juliet theory. That shit happens all the time in Irina’s romance novels. ‘I like you but I think I’m not good for you so I’ll push you away because it’s what I think is best.’ That’s lame. I’m not doing back and forth bullshit. Either you want me or not. Figure it out.” I looked into his eyes. I hoped he realized I was talking about him and not the book characters.
We were approaching my bedroom and he gently set me down on the bed. I pulled him close and whispered in his ear, “Life is too short to waste a single second of it. Time is precious. It’s all about honesty and communication. I like you. A lot. I wish you were mine and I could touch you whenever I wanted.” I traced my finger along his cheek. I was relieved to finally put that out there. Everything was on the line. He kissed me on the forehead and slowly walked out. This was going to hurt tomorrow. I mean the heartache, not the hangover.
Thursday, Week Two
My alarm went off loudly, blasting a current song that always got on my nerves. I smacked it with my hand while slowly regaining consciousness. I was right in the middle of a dream and it took a second to get my bearings. As the events of the night before invaded my thoughts, my stomach slowly sank with a sense of dread. I had behaved like a desperate drunk jac
kass. Fuck. Aside from having to face Rocky’s rejection, the realization hit that I was without a car to get to work since he dropped me off the night before. That’s adding insult to injury. I crawled out of bed, grabbed the cordless phone, and dialed my mom’s number.
She answered in a sleepy voice and asked what was wrong.
“Mom, I had a bad night last night.”
“Are you sick or did you have a bad night’s sleep?”
“I never ended up working last night because I went to shoot an AK-47 with the guys from the brewery. We went to eat pancakes, I danced with a super-hot Russian chick that is apparently my new friend, drank a shot of gin and almost two beers, and drunkenly told Rocky that I like him. He didn’t return the sentiment. Now I have no car and need a ride to work.”
“Violet, there better be an ‘April fools!’ coming pretty soon. What the hell is the matter with you?” Frankie snapped.
“What? I’m pretty sure no part of that involved ‘and then I got arrested so come get me and bring bail money.’ You should have no problem with that story.”
“As your mother, I have a problem with ALL of it. Going off with strange guys, dancing with a girl, getting drunk, losing your car, and don’t get me started on anything to do with an AK-47!”
“Dude! I shot your boyfriend’s M14. Also, I didn’t lose my car. I just never managed to bring it home.”
“Violet, I am your MOTHER, don’t call me ‘Dude’!” I think with each word that she spoke, her tone got more and more piercing. Someone should tell her that at thirty-four, I am way too old to be grounded. I made my way to the kitchen to grab a drink of water and saw a note on my countertop. It was scribbled in Rocky’s handwriting:
“I would like to honestly communicate something with you: you snore.”
Now he’s tormenting me about my honesty and communication speech. Isn’t that just lovely? At least he paid attention. There was more to the note: