you really got a hold on me | john lennon

CHAPTER FORTY SIX

November 30th, 1960

"You got all yer stuff in there, Rolf?" I open the door to the restaurant just enough for him to rush out with all his stuff in hand. He held his stuff in his arms sloppily—his coat dragging along the dirtied ground. It was the same routine almost every day, opening together and then closing together. At this point, I was close to forgetting how I had lived normally without all this taking up my time. "And you can take your time, I don't mind. I don't want you to get everything you're carrying all dirty and gross. But we might be just a little too late for that."

He waves his hand at me dismissively,  resting his stuff on the floor to sort it out. I had to hold back from any weird faces I could possibly make just thinking of how many bladdered people had vommed and spit on that exact spot over the years.

"No, I'm fine. Go ahead and close up the place, I'll wait for you while I sort out my belongings." Rolf leans down and starts reorganizing his stuff neatly, a tired smile on his face.

I nod in response, his mess on the floor still taking up my mind. But I put it aside for the meantime as I tried to waste little time doing this one thing so I could just head back to the Top Ten and get some damn rest for tonight.

As I was putting the lock-in between the double doors though as I usually did, a few heavy footsteps could be heard dragging closer towards me. My hands fumbled as I tried rushing through finishing the lock—already thinking the worst on whoever could possibly be walking towards me beside Rolf at this hour in the night. Once the reassuring click of the lock was finally heard, I turned around to see a tall figure in front of me—though I couldn't see quite clearly who it was because of all the lights around us being turned off in the meantime.

My fists start to ball up at my sides as this person starts to walk closer and closer towards me. I gather up my wits for one minute and swing a punch just as John had taught me before, only for them to grab my wrist when it was oh so close to hitting their face. As they backed me up against the wall, I was getting prepared to scream my brains out—until I saw John's face finally come into view.

"You daft fuckin' bird, what were you about to hit me for? I told you to use it on some odd blokes..., not me.  I'm lucky I caught you before you hit me right in the damn jaw and might as well have broken it."

"I thought you were one of those odd blokes, John! You couldn't have just announced that you were there instead of lurking in the dark like some madman?" I break free of his grasp and look at him absolutely bewildered and embarrassed. It was horrifying to think of me actually hitting him like that, but with him creeping around like that—it was odd of him to think of me doing anything different and not mistaking him for someone else.

"Do I even look the closest thing to odd to you?"

"When you're in the dark like that, yes, yes you do!" I tried to reason with him, as he obviously didn't understand what he looked like. John was as blind as a bat after all, so of course he wouldn't know. "Next time just don't scare me like that again. I could've hurt you bad for fuck's sake. And I don't want to do that to you, y'know?"

"Fine, alright. Next time I'll be sure to announce my ever so important presence to you, your majesty. Deepest apologies, Madam." John puts on the poshest accent you could think of while doing a little curtsy. He was still pretty annoyed with such a close call, but had definitely just put it aside just for my case. I had so many more close experiences like that one time in the restaurant since then and he couldn't ever hold it against me being so careful.

Rolf walks behind John cautiously, his body all tensed up. He spins John around forcefully by the shoulder—still not caught up on what had just happened. I had to walk between them before it escalated any further, grabbing a hold on John's hand as well before he threw any punches at the poor bloke.