The House of Blues
Mayson walked into the Peaches Daiquiri bar, code named
Suckers flinching a bit from the speakers up so loud it could interrupt your
thought process. She slipped through the small crowd in the long narrow hallway
of a building and got behind the pizza shop that filled the back corner. If they couldn’t see you they couldn’t bother
you, and she needed that few minutes to adjust into work zone. Thankfully this bar out of the three Peaches
had the best AC and it was comfortable in the employee space behind the blazing
pizza ovens. Deacon had already arrived
and he opened his arms folding her into a hug.
“Hey darlin” he whispered gently in her ear. She was sure that nothing was more healing
and genuine than a hug from this man.
Above everyone she had melted for the tired artist that glowed with love
but had a taint of a dark side to keep it interesting. She enjoyed the comfort
offered in his embrace just soaking up the one pure moment only he could offer.
The day shift
bartender Atahba was ready to get out and already had her school bag in hand.
“Hey, the Pina Colada is out, have a good one.” The crowd parted for the angry
black woman attitude Atahba projected when she was trying to get out of the
Quarter.
“I’ll do pizza
tonight” Walter our third employee on tonight volunteered. He had already taken
his place behind the counter and was putting the money in the register. Deacon and I smiled at each other. That meant
it would be just the two of us behind the bar.
Most of the time the puppet master manager would match you up with
anybody than who you actually enjoyed working with so being with the two of
them was a treat.
“Shall we my dear?” Deacon dramatically outstretched his arm
for me to walk up on our stage for the evening.
Mayson plastered a smile on her face and adjusted her tight shirt to
show just this side of scandalous cleavage.
She went into the zone and started to check the napkins, cups, and
liquor levels.
“Hey you!”, a hand slapped down on the bar and Mayson turned
from her cup stocking to face a fat white man. His white T-shirt was stained
with what could only be Hurricane red and his cheap tan pants stretched up and
over his belly. His pale white face had
a few drops of sweet dripping of his puffy chin and the eyes couldn’t quite
focus. “Let me try that mango flavor?”
he slurred eyes never leaving her chest.
So the night began….
Most people just paid the toll of an overpriced drink to
visit the nightly carnival of the Quarter.
Just visiting for a night or weekend rooting around in pleasures their Sunday
minister would never fathom. The tourist
would just dip the tip of a finger in for a taste of the decadence only to wash
it thoroughly with antibacterial soap Monday morning.
We were the backbone of the Quarter, the strippers, cooks,
waiters, shot girls, DJ’s, musicians and of course the bartenders. We were the
people that had dove into the chaos and didn’t even bother to bath on
Monday. We learned to stare unflinching
and blank faced at the worst representation of our society. You were barraged every night with ear
numbing music that resulted in everyone screaming up spittle on you to order a
drink. Puke, sweat, and urine burned
your nostrils and covered every surface you touched. It was tolerated with
minor complaints because you were next to kindred spirits and sometimes making
bank. All of you drawn to the city for
that elusive “something” and not finding it, but you had each other and maybe
that was that something? If it was why were you all searching for another
outlet to happiness then? Your fellow soldiers were a schizophrenic unit that
dealt no guilt, shame or judgment as long as you showed up for your shift and
busted your ass. Ahh her blessed Bourbon
street.
“Mayson you have to go its SIN at the House of Blues. I
can’t believe you haven’t gone before,” Walter whined with his nasally voice.
Deacon gave her puppy eyes “Come on you will never meet
mister right if you just keep going to the Three Legged Dog every night.” Ooh Deacon knew just how to tug her didn’t
he? Walter and Deacon had been harassing
her for the last few hours of their shift to go out.
“But I like the Dog I get to see all of the guys and its
safe there. This is a big bad city, I’m
a creature of habit and it works for me.”
Walter laughed at her high and shrill.
He had grown up in New Orleans and was making his way through the last
of college by bartending. She had heard
the locals never came to the Quarter so he was an anomaly. His large pale chocolate hands petted both
her arms his large muscles flexing through his thin shirt.
“You’re being silly, I have lived here all my life and look
I’m still shaking.” He wiggled his hips a little bit for influence. Deacon came up behind her and wrapped his
arms around her waist. They were a
touchy group.
“You have heard my
stories I have been stumbling around for years and I’m still here. You will be fine away from the Dog, We have
your back ya know.” She leaned back into
his arms and took the comfort.
“Well, I’m not completely innocent I have been around, jesus
guys. I just get scared I’m going to be that poor white girl the news reports
talk about in. They will pull me up and
find me half eaten by whatever floats in that dark river.” She felt the little
control that she wrapped around her like a straight jacket kept her safe so
far. She hadn’t moved here to go to the same bar every night and talk to the
same people. They really did have a
point about her getting out. She had
moved here to wear high heels and sexy dresses, black eyeliner and red
lipstick. She came here to mingle with
Goth’s and computer geeks, rich college kids and biker dudes. She wanted to
meet people of different races, from different countries; to expand her
understanding of herself and the world.
She really wanted to become that girl that had strutted down Bourbon six
months ago the sky the limit of transforming herself.
Deacon put three Styrofoam cups on the bar the moment Walter
locked the last door at Suckers. “What
is your pleasure tonight M?”
“Let’s do vodka, orange and sprite.” He turned and inspected the liquor for the
grey goose, found it and poured a healthy shot into the bottom of the white
cup. Walter grabbed the Jack Daniels and
did the same to his. When the drinks
were all ready they cheered to a pretty good money night then rushed to get the
closing chores done. Mayson quickly
sucked down her end of shift drink during the scrub down of the long marble
bar. They all chipped in to restock the bar and took turns taking Jaeger shots
every time they had to go get more supplies.
“So what’s it going
to be Mayson, are you going to come with us or what?” Deacon asked.
She was feeling that nice warmth that floated in your
stomach telling you a buzz was coming and she decided.
“Ok, I’ll go, your right I need to get out of my safety
zone. Honestly I have been stuck and I
think it’s about time I just made it happen.
No more feeling guilty for my lifestyle from now on I’m going full
throttle.” The decision was made; tonight she would finally commit her feet on
that path that had always tempted her, true abandon. The path may be dark and
shadowed but was also full of mystery and thrills. With only one glance over at
the bright, sunny, safe road of virtue she took the hand of mischief and they
leaped into the rabbit hole of debauchery.
She was just starting to feel “good”. Her body started to feel light, sexy maybe a
little indestructible the fast ad furious drinking was taking affect. Inhibitions
shedding she was fully taking on her new persona and was not going home alone
tonight! Mayson stood around the
outskirts of a giant throbbing mass of bodies pulsing on the main floor of the
House of Blues. These were “her” people
the fellow fallen. Most hustled drinks to stupid tourists all night long and
were on a mission to forget about how many times they had heard Sweet Home
Alabama that night! She was so happy
Walter and Deacon had escorted her here.
They clung to each other and even loved each other but would never want
to cross the protective brother/friend threshold. Respect for each other had developed after
working endless hours hustling styrofoam encased alcoholic slushies for $1
tips. Over the last few months they had
established almost a survivor of war relationship. The enemy being the tourist and the battle to
remain calm, respectful no matter what they threw at you. We would go to our bar after work and
romanticize about what we had wanted to do to customers.
Safe, knowing that the guys had her
back and wanting to fill that growing need rising inside her Mayson boldly went
were many a twenty something at SIN had gone before. She slithered her way into
the mob. She was on a mission to get to
the bar on the far side of the dance floor. She was groped, shoved, bumped and groped some
more. The body heat from the dance floor exaggerated her buzz, but she finally
stepped out of the crowd emerging like a swimmer coming out of the water
gasping fresh air. One person stood at
the isolated bar. Or better yet one cute
bootie stood at the bar. Liquid courage
was letting her be that alter ego. That person in possession of her body led
her to began the adventure that was her true destiny. With no hesitation, total confidence Mayson hip bumped the tall loner’s
leg standing at the bar. “Hey watcha
doing?”
Fisher
Fisher was startled out of his
reverie staring down the hole in his beer bottle. A small blonde girl maybe 120 lbs, stick thin
looked up at him with big almond eyes.
The dark lighting only highlighted by cheap glass candles on the bar and
strobe lights from the dance floor gave him little more to work with. Yet his instinct told him to not dismiss this
girl with doe eyes. “I’m trying to get a
real drink on before daring that”.
Fisher shrugged his thick shoulder at the dance floor and tilted the
last dregs of his beer back. “Perfect
your empty lets get some shots.” Mayson leaned up on her tip toes and yelled into
his ear to be heard over the throbbing music.
She climbed up the bar stool next to him putting both her knees on the
top curling her legs underneath her and grabbed cash from her back pocket. Flashing money in her hand she gave an
amazing smile to the bored bartender standing in the back corner. He watched her lean both elbows on the wood
bar. Instead of shouting her order or
trying to speak in the bartender’s ear like he had the girl knew a different
trick. She moved one of the candles
closer to her face and worded “grand mar two shots,” and she grabbed his empty Amber bottle “two.” She put up two
fingers “of these” as she passed the empty to the women. He caught a better look at her while she did
this. Her lips were very full and she
had cherub cheeks. Thick heavy bangs
stopped just above straight dark eyebrows.
It wasn’t blonde hair but white like an eggshell. When she was satisfied with her order she
pushed her elbows over closer to me and leaned her face so we were almost touching noses. She wrinkled up that little nose and grinned with only the confidence
someone with a nice buzz could and drawled.
“You’re kinda cute.” Fisher guffawed
but held her stare his thoughts flying.
He was saved from finding a witty comeback by the bartender. She placed two small snifters filled with a
caramel colored liquid and two Abita’s down in front of them. This only bought him a second before those
huge eyes were locked with his again lips a breath from each other “Ooo yummy,
you know it is a tradition when you start working at the Peaches that your
first night you are drug off to the Dog and must do at least one Wookie! I’ll be kind to you this is just Grand Marnier
the main ingredient in a Wookie but a warning”, as her little hand placed the
snifter in my large one. “The taste gets
in your blood and the craving can be hard to ignore, cheers to new
lovers!” She just touched my glass with
hers and I watched the thick liquid go smoothly down her throat. I had never even heard of Grand Marnier. It was slow to go down almost like
syrup. Sweet, rich and too much
for my virginal alcohol buds but I was determined to get it down without a funny
face.
The night blended of those sticky
shots, hot kisses and sweaty dancing. I explored every inch of Mayson’s body
that was within hands reach. She rubbed
against me suggestively then alternatively would bounce away jumping around in
a buzzed oblivion. The night wound into
the time to take action or go home alone. She had targeted on him and he felt that
he had to follow through and bind this girl to him somehow. “Let’s get out of here” Fisher shouted over
the music into Mayson’s ear as she rubbed her back against him. Mayson turned into his arms and gave him a
long stare. The questioning crinkles around
her eyes told him she was trying to make "that" decision. She kissed him dry and
soft and said “sure, just let me check in with my buddies.” She grabbed his hand and broke trial through
the tangle of bodies on the floor. She jumped
up the last step off the dance floor with a pounce of successful freedom from
the crush. Mayson held his hand fiercely
as she started scanning the bar areas. Locating her people she plunged forward
against the crowd to a back corner near the bathrooms. She dropped his hand when they got close to
two big guys that must have been her buddies.
Our approach made both the guys stop talking to several girls gathered
around them. “What cha guys gonna do,
it’s getting late?” Mayson asked. One of them with long hair pulled into a
ponytail locked judging eyes with me and said “probably not what you’re about
to!” Deacon, Walter this is Fisher, he
is a student at Tulane Medical!” Walter
raised his dark eyebrows over his black rimmed glasses and smiled nodding his
head “uh uh sure.” “Well if I don’t show
up at work tomorrow start looking for body parts with this guy ok” Mayson said.
She gave Deacon, the one with a pony tail a big long hug and wet smack on the lips
ignoring the jealous glares of several of the girls. She blew a kiss to the other guy, “good luck”
adding a double wink as she led me away.
She walked backward holding both my hands smiling at me until I grabbed
her around the waist and got lost in a needy kiss. School had consumed him and he had only
intended to stay for a few drinks just a little break from studying. How had
this happened? Thank God this had happened.
He’s so cute Mayson thought as they
emerged into a warm muggy morning the sun just shaking itself and thinking
about how it would be today. She hoped Fisher
being a former gymnast would play into her lustful imagination and hopes for
what was to happen next! The old her
would have stopped all this here. She wasn’t supposed to take strangers home. You should exchange numbers and call maybe,
when you sobered up, but why not enjoy where this was going now? Instant gratification was better than daring
the let down that this guy would probably never call for a real date? Luck had it she was watching Smith's
apartment above the Dog until he got home from New York. His cat needed somebody and who could turn
down a Quarter local above the bar her crew spent most waking non working hours
at. She hooked Fisher's elbow “let’s go to my
place." They staggered forward down Decatur
street turning at Conti with only a few pauses to shove him lustily against
brick walls for a short make out session where she took the chance to explore
his strong tall body with her hands.
He grabbed her arm when she went to
push open one of the black swinging doors to the Three Legged Dog bar. “I can’t
drink anymore I thought we were going to your place?” “O hell no, you should never say that around
here that’s asking for trouble, light weight it’s only like four!” She left him
standing outside as she strolled in the double doors like a cowboy to a saloon. He looked down to see his shoes just over two
quarters. He found out later Jimmie the bar manager had glued these to the
ground. He had needed entertainment during the long lonely day shifts and this
gave him a good laugh at the suckers who would try to scrap them off the red
bricks, just a hint of the depravity that this bar maintained. Fisher stared down at them curiously giving a
pause to assess the situation. When was
he going to run into a girl like this?
He had a panicked need for this girl. She had captured him with her
looks, attitude and confidence. He lived in one of the craziest cities and he
never participated. Mayson could provide him with some recklessness and joy. He
had always wanted an excuse to let go, so ok he was jumping off this cliff. He
forced himself through the swinging door.
Mayson was sitting on the service side of the bar her legs straddling a man that the big and tall store was made for. They were conspiring
together; a wicked grin was plastered on the bartenders face. Surprisingly at this hour at least thirty
people milled around in different states of sobriety. He saw small chummy groups cheering over
another shot, couples playing poker games in the back corner like zombies,
flexible lesbian strippers were dancing for their lover’s entertainment. They
even had a heavily tattooed fellow hand wrapped around his head drooling on the
bar, checked out to the world. Mayson
and her bartender both smiled at him when he finally committed to walking a
little further in. He immediately felt he was the visitor to the zoo observing
this tight knit group of misfits. Mayson
was easily hoisted by the strong guy so she was standing on the bar. She
confidently made her way towards him each hand holding a large shot glass. She plucked her sandaled feet over arms and
in between glasses until she made it to the corner of the bar where he met
her. He looked up into her large eyes
that were the color of dark pine needles on a wet day and she took his breath
away. She gave a half cocked grin and
placed the glass in his hand then slid down to once again sit on the bar, but
this time facing him. She seemed very at
home here and he noticed a few of the men giving him the once over. They
gave the vibe they knew how and would beat the shit out of him if he lay a
finger on their girl that she didn’t want.
It said something about her and them, fierce loyalty among the workers
of the night. She leaned and grabbed his
shirt with both hands and pulled him into her so they were just nose to nose. Just
as he was going to kiss her she hesitated and pulled back looking around with a
look of embarrassment. “They’ve never
seen me with a guy in here” she whispered in my ear. Then she gently tugged on my earlobe for a
moment. She leaned back and cheered me
with yet another shot of the liquor and I had almost accomplished not grimacing
from it. “night Jimmie, she piped up and
waved to the bartender as she jumped down from the bar and took my hand.
