Bugsy the Clown: Part 10

   Marlon takes me to see these street fights that have begun lately. They’re a new trend, the new way to make money with the economy starting to falter. Those with short comings will do anything to make ends meat. There’s some talk about us trying it out some day, just for kicks, but for now the thrill remains in watching these people destroying each other. I make enough money to keep my face pleasant.

   Blur. I see many nights of partying mixed in with one another. Dizzying. Blur.

   Holly, Holly Fitzgerald, the girl of my dreams. I noticed her quickly out of the thick crowd while I was out with Marlon in a club one night. The place was hazy, the beams of light amplified the twirling smoke. There she was, in her bubble, she moved like a snake and her venom was flowing through my veins. She was making love to Iggy, her body caressing every howl from “Sweet Sixteen”, such a great song. The thought might’ve occurred to me to go have a talk with her but she was such a sight to behold that I couldn’t will myself to move. Marlon had long left with his nightly conquest, but I found myself helpless before Holly now sliding along on some other song that was a blur to me. This girl knew how to move her body. Half the people had left the place, it was near closing time, but Holly was too passionate to stop when the music was still going and I was far too mesmerised to look away. And then, as if all went dead, the music stops. Holly stops dancing, I snap out of it but I still have eyes only for her. Her eyes open for the first time to me, and they fall upon me as if her radar had detected an intruder. But she smiles as if amused by my stupid looking face. She leaves the dance floor and heads out of the club. Before I even start to move I realise she’s gone and I blew my chance.

 

   Blur. Memphis and I decide to go at the Cabaret, the club at which Jeremy works as a bouncer. They’ve changed things up recently, it’s more a stripping joint now, it’s not so much the quiet bar we use to hang out at any more. It’s more crowded than usual, noisier too. Marlon and I run into Germ at the door, he looks a little less jovial than he usually is. And Marlon just doesn’t know how to shut up.

-‘Germ! How’s it hangin’?!

-Marlon, Brandon. What’s up guys? Listen, we got loads of special clients tonight, like “lose my job if I screw up” specials. So I got a little favour.

-Hey! Anything for the Germ!

-No troubles, no fights, no matter what.

-Aaaaaah! No fun mate!’

   Jeremy doesn’t budge and Marlon becomes quiet, a rare occurrence. Germ points a table that’s reasonably close to the stage considering all the best seats are taken by the rich people. Jeremy called them “specials” but all I see is the scummiest of the scum. I can see most of the organised crime gangs have shown up and for some reason, on this particular night there not at war. The Gangsters are sitting at a table just a few feet from the Skin Heads; the Chinese Mafia is face to face with the Angels of Harley. I figure they’re all scouting the terrain, seeing which one as most to profit from dealing within this place, or maybe even owning it. But then it all kinda’ makes sense. It seems the world is revolving around Huo Yuanjia’s crew tonight, a couple of these guys are walking around, talking with the other gangs, making their presence well felt. I’ve never witnessed such respect, such honour amongst thieves. They’ve chosen this night for their meeting, concealing all the negotiations within this party … clever. None of these guys are big time though, it’s a messenger’s ball, you can tell by the fact that the women working there aren’t too drawn to the tables, there’s less money to be made with these fellows.

   So Marlon and I sit down and Marlon starts flirting with the waitress but then the show starts and I’m impressed with the ambience they’ve created. They’ve got smoke and light effects on the stage and this captures mostly everybody’s attention … except for Marlon of course. “Penetration”, Iggy and the Stooges start playing and this girl comes out dancing to it with such enthusiasm that it sends chills all over my forearms, the hairs stand up like soldiers called out by their colonel. It takes me a few moments to realize that the dancing, the moves this girl is putting on display, are familiar. I’ve seen her before. Then the announcer calls her out: “Gentlemen, please give warm welcome to Vicarious Veronica!”. She didn’t look like a Veronica to me but she could of gone by any name that I would have been melting away just the same … Luscious Lola, Marvellous Margaret, Plump Patty, Curvaceous Candy, Sensual Sally … Syllabub Cynthia … ah yes … a syllabub … such a great desert. It was over before I could really appreciate her naked body, there’s nothing like fantasising about a girl for a few weeks and then magically, your fantasy comes to life effortlessly, not on her part … she gave it her all out there, but I on the other hand just had to sit there and watch as her breasts bounced beautifully as she danced and swung around the poll. Her round butt cheeks were so perfect, even God would have been bragging about it had he been present. But her face, her face could have made me cry she was so beautiful. She had an intense stare and from what I could tell, her eyes were blue maybe green, or maybe the most harmonious mix of both in this turquoise that you’d see on those post cards from Mexico. Her nose was discreet, yet angular at the tip but complimented her face perfectly. And then I laid eyes on her lips and just then I would have kissed her and made love to her. She had these full lips, and I’m not sure if it was purely instinctual but those lips were a lethal weapon, she could seduce any man with those lips and I still debate whether they were truly beautiful lips or sexually arousing lips. Nevertheless, I couldn’t see any imperfections … I was in love, in love with her body at least.

   The rest of the night goes by fast … I stand up and put my coat on and signal Marlon as I head out, leaving him with a pair of bedazzled young girls who had heard too many rumours. As I head out Germ stops me.

-”Hey Brandon … I got another favour to ask man.

-What’s up?

-There’s this girl, she needs a ride … she can’t walk outside dressed the way she is with all these jerks out there. Taxi’s are overloaded and too busy tonight …

-Uh … hey sure, if it’s alright with her. Does she know about my bike though?”

   I had a really beat up bike. I tried to keep it running, did a good job of it too but it didn’t appeal much to the ladies. It’s a 1940 Flathead Harley Davidson UL … quite a monster; its roar scared off the kids.

-”Don’t matter … huh … Veronica, she’s gonna’ love that thing anyway.”

   She comes out from the back. She smiles at Germ and then points at me slightly timid like and looks straight into my eyes and it was like running into the ocean for the first time, briskly cold but exhilarating and unforgettable. She stops and looks at me with a stunning smile, “So you’re Brandon?” and I melt but still manage to nod. “Thanks Germ. Goodnight!” and she walks out the club and I smile at Jeremy like a moron and head out right behind her.

   The streets are really packed, Jeremy wasn’t kidding. It’s really chaotic and I have to push my way to my bike. Holly is doing her best to keep up at this point, I’d grab her by the hand but I’m afraid I might give out a strange message, so I press on, breaking a path through the thick crowd for her. As we clear the mess, she steps up to walk side by side with me. I can’t think of anything to say but at the same time there’s plenty of things I would like to say but can’t, at the risk of freakin’ her out. “This is my bike.” I manage to utter these words without looking like a dumbass and she looks at me and then the bike with a smile that seems to inspire excitement and a taste for adventure, “You ride that thing and you’re still standing?!” is what she says.

   I can’t think of a better answer than signalling for her to get on behind me as I take my place as I smile sarcastically. She gets on and puts her arms around me and it seizes me like a chill running through my back, I haven’t been touched like this in a while. Last physical contact I had was getting punched by some crazy fanatic last time Mee Lien started a rumble. She rests her chin on my right shoulder blade and I could die now like this and have no regrets. I start my bike and the roar of my bike scares off a few passers-by as I race through the congestion in front of the club.

   As we go along Holly tells me where to turn and the faster I go the more she holds on tight, so I speed up some more. We arrive at her place, her neighbourhood is safe as opposed to the streets she has to go through to get there. She gets off the bike and the absence of her body close to mine makes me realize how cold the night air really is. I turn off my bike as she turns over and looks at me.

-”So this is me. Thanks for the ride. I suppose since you’re a friend of Germ’s that I’ll be seeing you around?

-Yeah, every Thursday night.

   She pauses and studies me.

-I’ve seen you before somewhere.

-I think I saw you over at the Barrel.

-Oh! Yeah I hang out there sometimes, I like the music.

   The thought of telling her she’s the result for me listening to Iggy Pop all the time these days crosses my mind but I hold it back.

-Well, I guess I’ll see you next Thursday then.

-Next Thurday.

-Alright … Goodnight … and thanks again for the ride, I really appreciate.

-Well … thanks for the dance, it was the highlight of my day … Veronica.”

   And it was too late to take it back, it was corny and I didn’t want to cross that line but I laid it out there. But then she smiles and gives me a wink.

-”It’s Holly.

-What?

-Holly’s my real name, Veronica’s my stage name.”

   She turned back and headed straight into her apartment. Perhaps I had done a good thing telling her how much I enjoyed her dance … at least I got a name!