by Craig Birk
Chapter Five
Good Oral Hygiene
3:28 p.m.
“If you can't take the heat get yo' ass out the kitchen
We on a mission
Come along and ride on a fantastic voyage
Slide slide slippity-slide”
– Fantastic Voyage, Coolio
Alex’s black 2006 BMW 550i, which he paid cash for the previous January after receiving his year-end bonus, needed only a fraction of its 4.8 liter, 360 horsepower engine to smoothly approach the back entrance of the Wind and Sea apartment complex just north of Pacific Beach. The car had a black leather interior, incredibly soft to the touch, but which got annoyingly hot when left in the sun. Even so, it tended to cool off remarkably quickly once the air conditioner was turned on. Also, temperature controls built directly into the seats helped speed things along if desired. The windows were just cracked open, making Jay-Z’s Girls, Girls, Girls barely audible outside of the car. Gary Williams was sitting in the front seat with a silly half-smile on his face, still not quite believing that he was headed for a weekend in Vegas with the boys. Just forty-five minutes ago he was doing a final proofreading of an adjusted SEC filing for a client who had to delay their quarterly numbers because it turned out the CFO had spent over three million dollars on yacht rentals and private jet flights to the Caribbean for himself and various “companions.” Unfortunately, it was challenging to justify these as “marketing expenses” as the company had been doing.
Gary was sporting a fashionable haircut he got in the Gaslamp quarter last week for sixty-five dollars. Surprisingly, his wife Blair thought this was a very worthwhile use of money, even though she was upset about the six-dollar Tony Gwynn talking bottle opener he purchased the same day. The haircut, while nice, was conservative. It nicely complemented his khaki pants and a tucked-in white short-sleeved collared golf shirt. The pants were Banana Republic, the shirt by Greg Norman.
Alex was in the driver’s seat singing quietly along to Jay-Z . . .
“…Got this indian squaw
The day that I met her
Asked her what tribe she with, red dot or feather?
She said all you need to know is I'm not a ho
And to get with me you better be Chief Lots-a-Dough...”
Alex had changed clothes and was now wearing shiny black Nike sweat pants, black and brown Louis Vuitton leather sandals, vintage Wayfarer sunglasses and a white tee shirt that read, “I Just Did It” with the Nike swoosh logo in the shape of a smile underneath it. Both he and Gary were wearing the same blue-faced Tag Heuer watch.
As the car came to a stop, Gary rolled down his window further and deeply inhaled the soft San Diego air. He grabbed the roof of the car with his fingertips, resting his elbow on the open door window and let out a small laugh, turning toward Alex. “This is fucking insane. I can’t believe he is really getting married,” he said.
Alex (pausing briefly): “Um, well, yeah. It is insane.”
Gary: “Where did he meet this girl again?”
Alex: “I don’t even really know all the details. Listen, don’t drill him too much on it. He is still kind of shy about it.”
Gary: “It’s like a Russian bride or something? Did he knock someone up?”
Alex: “I don’t think so. I’m sure it will all come out, though. Hold on a sec.”
Alex flipped open his Razr and hit the auto-dial button for “The Rodge.” Roger picked up on the second ring and Alex let him know they were outside waiting for him. Then he flipped the phone shut and shoved it back in the front pocket of the Nike sweats.
Gary started talking again while tapping the roof of the car in synchrony with 2Pac’s Shorty Wanna b a Thug, which was now playing on the stereo. “Well, this is crazy, but it comes at a good time for me. It will be good to get away for a few days and get nice and fucked up,” he said, then added, “though I was looking forward to getting those new steak knives.”
Alex resisted the urge to ask what the big deal was about the steak knives and simply replied, “I am glad to hear you say that. And I agree a hundred percent.”
Gary: “And plus, I have been working my balls off the last few months.”
Alex: “Yeah, I know. Hey, we can’t have G-Balls with no balls. You deserve this. Look, there’s The Rodge.”
Roger busted through the metal pedestrian entrance gate for the Wind and Sea. He was wearing black shorts, blue Adidas flip-flops, a short-sleeved blue and white bowling shirt, and imitation Gucci sunglasses. He approached the BMW and gave Gary a high five through the open window, profoundly expressing, “Ahhh yeahhhh, bitches.”
Behind the fake Gucci’s, Roger was sporting bloodshot red eyes from lack of sleep, but it was with genuine enthusiasm that he asked, “Which one of you dirty sluts wants to go to Vegas?”
Alex leaned toward the passenger side of the car and looked out the window eying Roger suspiciously. “Where’s your shit?” he asked.
Roger pulled a toothbrush out of the left pocket of his shorts and waived it around. Then he pulled a fresh can of Kodiak and what was now eighty-seven dollars out of the right pocket. “I’m ready, baby,” he exclaimed.
Alex: “No way, dude. We have table reservations both nights and I want everyone to be there. Go back and pack some decent clothes. Jesus Christ.”
Roger: “I don’t really care that much about going to clubs to try and ramp a bunch of dumb hoes from L.A.”
Alex: “Rodge, just give Gary the toothbrush and go back and grab some clothes.”
Roger: “All right, tough guy, but you’re paying for the bottles.”
He passed the toothbrush to Gary through the car window, then turned around and started back toward the apartment in a slow trot. Gary put the toothbrush in the glove compartment, careful not to touch the well-worn bristles.
Gary (shaking his head): “God bless that guy. He is amazing.”
Alex: “No fucking doubt.”
Gary: “Sometimes I think maybe he has it all figured out. He definitely has a chill lifestyle. I’m getting up before dawn every day and wrapping a tie around my neck and he is sleeping in and getting paid to hang out in a sports bar.”
Alex: “And he gets to sleep with the customers.”
Gary: “Don’t forget the hostess.”
Alex: “Oh yeah. Yeah, you might be right. Maybe he does have it all figured out. Either way, at least we know he puts a high priority on oral hygiene.”
They both laughed.