chapter 8
Most of Lloyd=s weekends were spent either playing cards with his buddies or going to the harness races with Steve and some other hangers on. The track was a rundown place with a bunch of riffraff and old men in dungaree hats. They fit right in.
Steve and Lloyd would look around at all the sad sacks at the racetrack and be totally amused at how invested they were in the races. It was Harness racing, which was as fixed as a neutered dog, but as long as you didn=t know who would win it wouldn=t matter. It was so blatant. The jockeys would yank back on their horses right before the finish line and out of the blue another horse would win. And they would lose more than they won, just like everyone else.
But they had fun. If someone was screaming for the 7 horse both would immediately start screaming for its opponent. It amused them till no end, until one time a guy came over and intimated he was connected and to cease and desist in their mockery. It scared them at the time, but in retrospect, he literally said he was connected, and someone who was really connected wouldn=t say they were connected. Or something.
Their card games were raucous affairs that would last until 3 in the morning and be staffed by a bevy of topless waitresses and full of drunken shenanigans. Check that, it was 6 or 7 nerds sitting around smoking cheap cigars and drinking Manischewitz until about midnight, with no women within a 3 mile radius. One night after years of playing, Steve caught two of the others passing cards under the table, obviously cheating. They were working Stanley, the meek fellow who didn=t know a flush from a straight. Nice to know they were screwing their friends out of five bucks or something. To the shock of nobody they both became lawyers.
Pissed off, Lloyd and Steve stormed out, taking Stanley with them, and decided to drive the ten miles downtown to pay homage to the recently deceased mayor of Chicago, Harold Washington, who was lying in state in City Hall. There were hundreds of people in line, and The Mayor was a rather large black fellow, which caused Lloyd to say he looked remarkably like a dead gorilla which caused Steve to start to choke. A kindly, old black lady consoled him with a hug and a prayer under the mistaken impression that he was crying and was proud that a whitey was crying for old Harold. Racism is funny.
Afterwards they headed to a rundown strip bar named Puss in Boots (Clever!) to satisfy their adolescent urges. It was the sort of classy joint where you would put quarters in a slot and a window would slide up and lo and behold a skanky women would wobble off a lace couch and start undulating in a most likely cocaine induced haze. Lloyd and Steve decided to go into the same booth in order to save 50 cents, and yucked it up as the lovely Shelly grimaced while pulling her legs over her face. It looked like a roast beef sandwich. As the window mercifully came down they heard Shelley the Elastic woman yell at Stanley who was occupying his own booth. ANow go home to your mommy, little boy,@ she taunted. Stanley came out redfaced and looking ashamed. His Superman underwear was showing and his zipper was half down. They never asked him what the hell went on in there. They didn=t want to know. But they had an idea.
Speaking of which, Lloyd was now 17 and his virginity was settling in for the long run. He had stumbled into a rote routine of fondling himself at a rate of once every three days. It was like clockwork. He would even mark it off on the calendar. Monday, Thursday, Sunday, Wednesday, Saturday. It would serve him well for the next 10 years or so. They always say you should stick to a schedule. Though there would be crimps in the routine, especially if he rented a porno from the local video shop. You could only keep the pornos short term, so he would crack out two or three "productions" a day. Being a Jew, he was good at making sure he got his money's worth. And always girl on girl. Who wants to see cocks? He saw enough of his own. And he would get jealous of the men and lose his erection. And no vag close ups either, thank you very much. It looked like a hairy spider with a gaping pink mouth that devoured everything in it=s path. Which was pretty much true.
By the end of his high school years, Lloyd had not gone to any Proms or Homecomings or any other school function, which comes as a shock I am sure, dear reader. He did not meaningfully kiss a girl nor did he get to Asecond base.@ He barely made contact with the ball. The sharp reader will note the word meaningfully in the previous sentence and maybe their interest is piqued. Most probably not. But it is going to be detailed and discussed in minutia anyway. Feel free to skip ahead to the next chapter, but the next few paragraphs will be like a one car crash into a streetlight. Lots of carnage and you may have a hard time looking away
During the summer Lloyd would hang out at the local pool near his house along with many other teenagers. One day an unbelievably gorgeous girl showed up in a tantalizing white bikini. She was an absolute bombshell. Stunning body and pretty face. He would sit cross-legged whenever she walked by in a failing effort to hide his excitement. She was friends with a few of his friends and he was introduced to her. For some odd reason she took a liking to him.
Her name was Mia and she went to the local Catholic Girls high school. And she loved attention. And Lloyd was more than happy to provide it. He was like a puppy, and had the drooling to match. He fantasized about her all the time. Every day he would hope she was there. She would walk along the length of the pool and heads would turn from every direction. She had a husky voice that mesmerized Lloyd and sent him into fits of priapism at the moment she opened her mouth. She was the prettiest girl who had ever gave him more than a minutes attention. He figured it had to be ulterior motives but he didn=t care. Just being in her presence made him feel popular. And that was enough for him.
One time she asked him over to her house and told him no one would be home. Do you think he got the message? Yes. If the message was that there is no way a hot girl like her wants me and wants me to come over to her house when no one else is home and wants to just be friends with you. Idiot.
He went over to her house and she was just wearing a robe. He didn=t know what to do with himself. She asked him if he was a virgin. He blushed profusely. He asked if she was. She said no. He could see almost all the way up her robe.
Oh my god, her legs are so fucking hot. I hope she opens and crosses her legs. Please God Please God Please God, oh my god I am going to beat off to this so bad later on. I see her upper thigh!!Please God Please....
She asked about his sexual history and he tried to change the subject. Finally he told her he had to leave. And he did. This is maybe the most embarrassing paragraph you will ever read. Ok thanks for coming everybody, Hope you enjoyed the Book! Can you get the lights?
But Mia knew she had Lloyd wrapped around her finger. Her trap had been laid. It was the only thing that would be. It was all over for Lloyd. She would call him at all hours asking for rides to places and parties. And he would do it. Chauffeur her around anywhere she wanted and then leave. One time she asked him to drive her about 15 miles to a restaurant where two shady dudes were waiting for her. As she was exiting the car she gave Lloyd a kiss on the lips. It was like the scene in the Brady Bunch where Bobby sees stars after Millicent kisses him.
So, in his mind that was his first real kiss. No fake Champagne snowball, no truth or dare, this was the real deal. In her mind it was a way to keep twisting the screws on his affections. She was no dummy. He was an idiot.
Slow to Grow Page 10