Randy was, once again, in fine form. He could be found most weeknights at the bar in town, but be could also be found at the bar in town on the weekends and this is where he shone. He had a two beer limit during the week, but weekends were limitless. Nobody knew how Randy made his money, but they all knew how he spent it.
A new wallet and chain combo was hanging on his hip. The chain was just for show. Everyone in town knew he didn't have a pot to piss in let alone enough in his own wallet to bother robbing him. "Shots! Shots! Shots!" he chanted as he sidled up to a group of young women there celebrating a birthday. He always managed to get in on the round. If he had to depend on his own money to drink, he would have been a sober man.
It was still early enough in the night that Janice was still at the VLTs waiting to hit it big. No one in town knew where her money came from either. "Randy, Randy," she called hitting her next spin. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sauntered over. You never know where your next drink's is gonna come from. "At your beck and call," he bowed as Janice kept spinning. He was hoping she would send him for a drink so she wouldn't have to leave her machine and there'd be a drink in it for him.
She didn't take her eyes off the colourful cherries and crowns and numbers scrolling down the screen. "You still have that car of yours?" "I do," he looked back impatiently to the group of ladies downing another shot. "I need to go into the city," she said to him still hitting spins. "My car, it's uh, incapacitated," he hoped he had used the word correctly.
Ding, ding, ding. Janice almost stood up off her stool as the credits at the bottom of the screen tallied up. "Nice!" Randy hoped his enthusiasm would turn into a celebratory drink. Janice finally looked at him, "Now that I have some money, I need to go into the city." "Randy focused on the toe of his sneaker, "I don't have my license Janice." "I do," she offered. Randy looked at her incredulous. "I've never seen you drive!" "I've driven," Janice shrugged. Just point the car and go, right?" She added sarcastically.
"I'd have to get gas," he said thinking he could get some of her winnings into his own pocket. "Yeah, I think I have it covered," she said hitting the cash out button on the slot machine. She did off her stool back into her medical scooter and he walked beside her up to the bar to cash out. "I'll need a little more than just gas money," he said as the bartender handed over the cash, "you know general wear and tear."
She handed over one single twenty dollar bill. "I know this won't last until tomorrow, but here's your wear and tear money. I'll come by tomorrow morning at eleven ok." "Sound like a plan," Randy said holding the crisp twenty in his hand. She backed up her medi scooter and headed out the door. She ran over the foot of the birthday girl on her way out.
The twenty dollar bill never made it to Randy's wallet. He turned back to the bartender and bought a pitcher of the cheapest draft beer they had on tap. He weaved his way to the birthday table. The birthday girl had her shoe off and was rubbing her foot. He sat down. It was all women, he'd offer them some beer, but he knew they'd decline. "You know what'd make that foot feel better, tequila shots!" He laughed and nudged the girl beside him to go up and order. At this rate he'd be walking his bike home tonight.
Randy didn't remember how he got home. He woke up with a wicked hangover and a birthday girl plastic necklace on in his living room. He wanted to keep sleeping, but the light was shining hot and bright into his eyes. He rolled off the couch and stumbled to the kitchen. The oven clock was flashing 2:47. He squinted at it before remembered it had been stuck at 2:47 for weeks.
He opened the fridge and pulled out two hotdogs. He already had a hotdog water pot on the stove so just fired up the burner and tossed them in. It'd be a couple minutes before his hotdogs boiled so he took the opportunity to hit the head. In the bedroom he saw it was 10:40 so he'd have time for his breakfast before Janice got here. Janice was right, he had spent the whole $20 minus a few cents rolling around in the bottom of his pockets. He was pretty confident he could squeeze a bit more out of her for 'car stuff'.
He pulled his hotdogs out of the rolling water with just his fingers folding them into a piece of bread. "Double decker," he said as he squeezed ketchup on them. A knock on the back door startled him and he almost dropped a glob of ketchup on his shirt. "Damn Janice! You scared me half to death!" He took his breakfast outside to meet her. "We still going?" She looked at Randy in the same outfit she'd seen him in last night.
He walked to the side of the house eating his hotdogs. "You got gas money?" he he yelled over his shouldered. She nodded. "Then your chariot awaits!" He slapped the hood of the car. He looked inquisitively at her medi scooter. "What are you planning to do when we get there without that?" Janice waved her hand dismissively. "Oh I don't need that in the city," she said sliding out of her chair and into the drivers seat. "Do you actually need it at all?" He laughed when she didn't answer and tossed her the keys. The engine roared to life. Randy had to admit he was surprised it started so easily. "Yee Haw!" He drummed on the dashboard, "let's go!"
YOU ARE READING
Salad, Sandwiches, Dainties and Punch
General FictionI'm probably writing about your hometown
