As they broke free of the mob, the girls looked back one last time. Jesse was still miming.
~~~
Between classes, Kevin’s cell phone rang. He answered it. “Yellow?” He listened for a second. “No, I’m not interested in a future at Bob’s Burger Barn,” he snapped and listened again. “I don’t care what the application says. Please don’t call me again,” he barked and hung up.
Kevin thought about it and grinned. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Randy,” he mumbled under his breath. “Much better.” He laughed all the way to the sidewalk.
~~~
A few hours after the sun had gone down for the night, Randy was enjoying karaoke at his favorite local bar. He needed to sit through a few rounds of some very bad singing before his name was called. “Randy Duhon’s up next,” the DJ announced. Grinning, Randy stood and made his way to the small stage.
As the music started, he pushed play on his cell phone’s voice recorder, grabbed the microphone and began dramatically playing to the crowd—singing the old tune, Baby Come Back from Player, completely off key.
The crowd ate up Randy’s foolishness and started clapping. At the end of the song, Randy went to one knee and picked out the prettiest stranger in the crowd; she was with a group of female friends.
“That was for you, baby,” he said. “Please come back. Drugs aren’t the answer. The kids need you.” He wiped his eyes. “I need you, baby.”
“Ohhhhh,” the crowd sighed, sympathetically.
In the middle of the applause, Randy placed the microphone back on the stand, and waved. “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll be here ‘til Thursday. Please be sure to tip your waitresses on your way out.”
As he exited the stage, Randy pushed stop on his mini tape recorder. He looked up to see the attractive stranger sneering at him. With a chuckle, he winked at her and left—the crowd patting him on the back all the way out.
~~~
The following day, Jesse stood out in front of the pharmacy collecting money for a fake charity. A flimsy cardboard sign reading, HELP STOP GINGIVITIS IN PERU was propped up behind him. He shook his empty cup at each customer that passed him by.
In the midst of some really bad looks—directed at Jesse—a red-haired woman muttered, “Give me a break.”
Jesse acted hurt. “Do you have any idea how bad everyone’s breath is in Peru?” he asked.
“Bad enough to be stealing from people, I guess,” she replied in a huff.
As she stomped into the pharmacy, Jesse laughed. Just then, another customer threw a dollar bill into his cup—oblivious to Jesse’s sign or the phony cause it advertised.
Jesse looked into the cup and grinned. “We have enough for two packs of mints now.”
Not five minutes had elapsed when Jesse stood in the middle of aisle four. He grabbed a box of anal itch ointment, lifted it high into the air and yelled toward the red-head, “Is this what you’re looking for?”
Several other customers stifled their laughter before scurrying off to other aisles.
~~~
It was late afternoon at the Wonderland Costume Shop when Kevin paid the clerk for the rented gorilla suit.
“Little early for Halloween, isn’t it?” the clerk said.
Kevin laughed. “No, not really.” He reached for his wallet. “I think I’ll pay cash for this, if that’s okay?”
While the confused clerk cashed him out, Kevin smirked at his newest idea and left the store, lugging the heavy gorilla suit behind him.
~~~
The sun had just come up the following morning when Kevin was already hiding in the wood line near campus, dressed in the rented gorilla suit. Time to give the world another glimpse of the missing link, he thought. Every few minutes, he popped up and ran a few feet.
It didn’t take long before two passing co-eds spotted him and screamed in terror. “I’m going to get the campus police,” one of them yelled and took off running.
Her friend stood frozen, her mouth agape in horror. “It’s…it’s right there,” she stuttered, “in…in the woods…over there.” She put both hands to her mouth and screamed, “Oh, my God!”
Another female student rushed to the girl’s aid. “Oh, my God, what is it?” she yelled, pointing at Kevin.
Oh crap, Kevin thought and turned to run away. I’ve got to get out of here, he thought, breathing heavily. I could be disqualified for this.
Just then, campus police sirens wailed in the distance, getting louder as each second passed.
Panicked, Kevin yanked off the stifling gorilla head and swallowed hard. By now, there were dozens of students moving toward the wood line in search of Sasquatch. I’ve got to get out of here fast, Kevin thought and ran for his life.
~~~
An hour later, Jesse was sitting on a bench at the local park, pretending to do some bird watching. He held a pair of binoculars an inch away from his face, while a can of black shoe polish stuck out of his back pocket. As a female jogger came past, he whistled. “Oh my Lord, she’s beautiful,” he said, excitedly.
Jesse could hear heavy breathing and looked up from the goggles to see the woman jogging in place right beside him. With a smile, he happily handed the binoculars over to her. “It’s right there in the woods,” he whispered, pointing.
The attractive woman immediately placed the binoculars to her eyes and scanned the woods. “I don’t see anything,” she whispered, pulling the binoculars away from her face and looking back at Jesse. There were two perfect black circles surrounding her eyes.
Jesse cleared his throat, as he struggled not to laugh.
“I didn’t see anything?” the woman said, panting.
Jesse smiled and took out his cell phone to discreetly snap a photo. “It was a baby raccoon,” he said, taking the picture from his hip, “a little naïve, but really cute.”
The jogger placed the binoculars back to her face and scanned one last time. “Nothing,” she said and handed them back to Jesse—her eyes framed in shoe polish.
Jesse fought off the laughter and shrugged.
“Oh well,” she said, mirroring his shrug, “thanks anyway.” And she resumed her morning run.
Jesse waited a few moments before he allowed himself to laugh aloud. He checked his phone. The photo had captured the woman from her chin down. That was dumb, he thought, I can’t even get credit for this one.
~~~
It was nearly dusk. Kevin was just closing his Psychology textbook on the stairs of the Campus Community Center when he heard the college’s radio station report, “So the question remains, was there really a Big Foot sighting, or was it just some foolish kid who caused all the panic this morning?” There was a dramatic pause. “Campus Police are still investigating.”
As a victorious smile worked its way into Kevin’s face, his cell phone rang. He answered it. “Hello?” He listened and could feel his face burn red with anger. “I already told you people,” he yelled, “I don’t want to work at a dog shelter cleaning out kennels, so stop calling me!”
Kevin got up to leave. He was a few steps from the community center building when his cell phone rang again. He answered it and listened. “Now why in God’s name would I ever want a career at Wally’s Roast Beef?” he screeched.
~~~
That night, Kevin told Jesse, “It’s so irritating. I get three or four phone calls every day from fast food joints asking when I can come in for an interview or from strange men wanting to meet me because my online profile seems very interesting.”
Jesse laughed. “That sucks,” he said, “but it could be worse.”
“And how’s that?” Kevin asked, disgustedly.
“Randy could have targeted me with all those mindless pranks,” he teased.
Kevin was still shaking his head when Jesse blurted, “Oh, my God…”
Kevin looked up to find Randy’s smug face looking straight at them from the television screen. Randy was sitting comfortably on the college’s cable talk s
how couch. “Oh my God,” Kevin repeated and slowly took a seat.
Brandt Swanson, the host, introduced Randy. “Today, we have Randy Duhon on the show. He’s here to talk about some of the lonely folks in our college community who still find it hard to approach the opposite sex and ask for a date.”
Randy smiled right into the camera.
In horror, Kevin and Jesse looked at each other. “Oh, no!” they said in sync.
“Thanks for coming on the show today,” Brandt told Randy. “We appreciate it.”
“Thanks so much for having me, Brandt. I’m grateful for the opportunity to speak to your audience today,” Randy said, smirking into the camera. “I have some really good friends who are great guys, but they also happen to be incredibly shy. For years, I’ve watched them struggle to even speak to girls and I’d like to share their frustration with you today.”
In horror, Kevin and Jesse looked at each other again. “Oh God, no!” they said in unison.
“When I first met Jesse Cabral and Kevin Robinson our freshman year, I thought they were both gay,” Randy said. “But after a while, I realized that the feminine mannerisms and squeaky voices were just defensive mechanisms.” He shrugged. “I guess they were just scared.”
“I’m going to kill him,” Jesse said through gritted teeth.
“Not if I get to him first,” Kevin promised.
Randy looked back into the camera. “Girls, whenever you see Kevin or Jesse around campus, please be kind to them,” he said. “They’re both fighting to feel comfortable in their own skin.” He shook his head and lowered his tone. “They’re still trying to figure out who they are.”
Kevin shook his head. “I hope Marybeth’s not watching this.”
3
The wet streets glistened beneath the streetlamps when Kevin and Marybeth pulled into the lot. Bent tubes of red and green neon hissed the word DINER; the exhausted R flickering like some cheap motel sign. A closer look revealed that the N was missing. DIER is what the billboard letters actually read.
They pulled into a row of cars parked right to the door and stepped out to face equal amounts of glass and polished aluminum formed in the shape of a giant bus. The restaurant looked like a trailer home right smack in the middle of a black-tar parking lot. It looks like the perfect place to eat, Kevin thought.
It was a tight squeeze past the candy vending machine where the new couple was greeted by another sign reading, Please Seat Yourself. They did. The booth was retro 50s, its bright green seat cushions cracked and taped. Kevin slid in right beside his smiling date. Marybeth was beautiful and sexy, with dark hair and eyes to match.
On the table, warm creamers, a sticky bottle of ketchup and an array of assorted jellies sat beneath a walled jukebox. Its selections were as outdated as the diner’s elderly clientele. They dared not look under the table.
A gum-snapping waitress approached, coffees in hand. She smelled of home fries and scrambled eggs, saving Kevin and Marybeth the time of reading the Specials board. “What’ll it be?” she asked with a smile.
“Two eggs over easy with bacon and toast,” Marybeth ordered.
“An omelet,” Kevin answered, “with everything in it.”
The waitress winked and was on her way in a flash.
“I love eating breakfast food at dinner time,” Marybeth said.
“Me too,” Kevin said and grabbed her hand. For a moment, he scanned the place and allowed his mind to take in his surroundings.
Without breaking his frantic stride, the cook acknowledged the new order being put up. He was as thin as a scarecrow with a moustache to match. He was quick, his dual spatulas clanging melodically against the sizzling grill. A day’s worth of sweat and food remnants stained his once white uniform, proof that he’d already worked his fair share. Still, he never slowed. After dropping some cubed potatoes into the deep fryer, he cracked four brown eggs. With the other hand, he reached for some cheese. Kevin sipped hot coffee and silently hoped it was his meal in the making. It was still too early to tell.
While some oldies tune played like white noise in the background, the place was awash in a chorus of friendly conversation. From the memorabilia that cluttered the walls, it was like taking a walk into the past when Marilyn Monroe and James Dean hypnotized the country. “I love greasy spoons,” he muttered without thinking.
“Me too,” Marybeth said and squeezed his hand.
A woman at the next table nodded in agreement. “I love these places too,” she mumbled, gumming her pancakes to death. It was clear that privacy was one item not on the menu. The waitress returned to fill half-empty cups, forcing Kevin and Marybeth to recreate the same taste with more cream and sugar.
Within minutes, she returned with the meals. The word “enjoy,” however, wasn’t ten minutes old when crumpled napkins found their way into two empty plates.
While they finished off their third cups of coffee, Marybeth said, “I guess what I’m saying is, I’m not sure what I want after school, except that I don’t want any more school.”
He laughed and continued staring into her big chocolate eyes.
She finally stopped babbling long enough for him to lean in and kiss her.
“You’re a really great listener,” she said in a voice that reached just beyond a whisper, making his heart flutter. “I was thinking that I’d like to be a great listener too.”
One of his eyebrows stood.
She giggled. “So the next time I see you,” she said, “which I’m really looking forward to…” She gave him another kiss. “…I intend to shut my mouth and let you run with it. I’m curious about you and I’m looking forward to learning everything about you.”
Kevin started to speak, but stopped. “Marybeth,” he said carefully after organizing his thoughts, “you’re not just a woman I know or met. You’re someone I really care about…even though you want to take it slow.”
“Kevin, I want to know your mind and especially your heart before we…”
He nodded. “I understand,” he said. “We’ll move as fast or as slow as you’re comfortable with.”
“Thank you for that,” she whispered, hugging him.
Pushing the coffee mug away from him, Kevin said, “I’m getting together with everyone tonight.” He peered hard into her eyes. “Come with me. I really want them to meet you.”
She shook her head. “Not tonight,” she said, “but soon.”
Kevin nodded but felt confused about her reluctance to meet his friends. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“Soon,” she repeated and kissed him.
He paid the tab and slid out of the booth. “Okay,” he said.
She slid out of the booth behind him and grabbed his hand. “But I’d really like it if you could call me later.” She looked into his eyes and smiled beautifully. “I need to hear your voice again before I go to bed.”
Kevin swallowed hard and escorted her out of the greasy spoon, making room for others who salivated at the door.
~~~
Izzy, Ava, Randy and Jesse gathered on Izzy and Ava’s front porch for their weekly Thursday Night Club get-together. As they drank beer and wine from mismatched glasses at the old wooden table—waiting on Kevin to start playing cards—they finished their discussion on the current state of the church.
“…so why is that politically incorrect?” Randy asked, grinning.
“Randy, you’re beyond politically incorrect,” Izzy said. “You’re just incorrect.”
Randy laughed. “And comfortable with it, you Shiite liberal,” he said. “People take themselves way too seriously today.” He shook his head. “I think everyone has become much too sensitive for this big bad world.”
Jesse nodded. “I agree,” he said, “and Randy’s right. Learning morals from the church is like learning fiscal ethics from Exxon-Mobile.”
At that moment, Kevin emerged from the shadows wearing a baseball helmet with a video camera duct taped to the front of it. “Quiet on the set!” he screamed.<
br />
They all laughed.
“I hope you came up with something better than that,” Izzy said.
Kevin removed the ridiculous helmet and took his rightful place at the table. “Oh, I did,” he said.
“Late again, Kevin?” Ava said.
He shrugged unapologetically. “I’m sure I didn’t miss anything,” he joked.
“It was Marybeth again, right?” Izzy commented.
He nodded.
“Why don’t you just bring her along?” Ava asked.
“Yeah,” Izzy said, “this isn’t exactly an exclusive club.”
Everyone looked at Izzy.
“Yeah, right,” Kevin said and smiled. “I’ll bring her around soon.”
Wrapped in a heavy afghan, Ava sneezed and looked at Randy. “Can you please hand me a tissue?” she asked.
“Kiss you?” he said. “But I hardly know you.”
She playfully slapped his arm. “You need better material too,” she teased.
“He sure does,” Kevin chimed in. “I just got his postcard from the Battleship Cove and…”
“Battleship Cove?” Izzy interrupted. “Isn’t that four blocks from here?”
Randy nodded and everyone laughed. It was the perfect transition from religion to tallying the pranks and deciding the latest contest winner.
Still chuckling, Ava asked, “That’s the best you can do, Randy?”
“That’s exactly what I thought,” Kevin blurted, smiling. “And then I figured, with amateur material like that, it has to be down to me and Jesse.”
Randy stood. “I don’t think so,” he said excitedly.
The Thursday Night Club Page 2