Anyways here I am sittin’ in this dumpy cowboy bar wonderin’ just how the fuck am I gonna East High School…the school where my all-time favourite movie ever is set at: the mighty High School Musical. In fact by now I’m wonderin’ if there even is a East High School here in Albuquerque, or is it just some more Hollywood bullshit when alla the sudden, who comes into the bar an’ sits next ta me? Mother-fuckin’ Troy Bolton’s coach…that’s who. Goddamn! Is that luck or what?
Eddie, the bartender, an’ this guy Don start talkin’. I immediately got this guy Don pegged fer some kinda high school coach or somethin’ cause he’s wearin’ gym shorts, trainers an’ a t-shirt in East High’s colours – white an’ red. He’s even got a fuckin’ whistle hangin’ from his neck. Of course the shirt don’t say East High on it or anything, but I just know that that’s where this guy’s coachin’. I can feel it in my bones. And when he says something about Troy Bolton, I goddamn near fall offa the bar stool.
‘Well, there’s this Troy kid,’ Don says as Eddie plunks down a bottle of Budweiser an’ a plate with a greasy lookin’ burger on it. ‘He might have the goods; he’s got a pretty decent hook from centre court.’
‘Yeah, think this kid’s pretty good then, huh?’ Eddie inquires.
‘Well…him an’ this other kid. Chad, he seems to show some promise, too.’
CHAD?...CHAD DANFORTH?!?! …. That black kid with the fluffy hair?! HOLY SHIT!! Now I know for certain that I’m on the right track. I’m sittin’ there thinkin’ that I should be askin’ this dude fer his autograph or somethin’ but I’m too nervous to do it. I mean this guy must get dudes pesterin’ him fer his autograph alla the time, he must be sick of it. Nah, better not, or else he might get pissed off at me. He might start yellin’ at me ta fuck off, or spray me in the face with pepper spray an’ kick me in the nuts, like that one chick did, the one I tried followin’ back ta her flat ‘cos I thought she wuz Mrs. Doyle offa that Father Ted show.
I’m thinkin’ this an’ I guess I’m so deep in though that I don’t even realize I’m doin’ it but the guy glances over at me an catches me lookin’ at him. He don’t say nuthin’ but all the same I quickly put my head down an’ stare into my bowl a chilli, like it’s the most innerestin’ thing in the world. I just keep starin’ at it an’ starin’ at it; don’t even dare to lift my head up in case I accidentally look at that this Don guy again. I mean I don’t want this guy thinkin’ I’m queer or some kinda weirdo or somethin.’
So I’m sittin’ there just starin’ inta my chilli like my life depends on it. After awhile I notice one a the chilli beans start ta move. It swims across a pool of meat, spices an’ grease till it reaches the edge of the bowl. It crawls up to the rim a the bowl, jumps down to the counter an’ scurries across the counter. The chilli bean scuttles about halfway up the length of the bar when Eddie brings his fist down on the bar, instantly crushing the bean.
‘Fuckin’ cock-a-roaches,’ he grumbles, an’ flicks the bean with his thumb and forefinger. It goes sailin’ across the room landin’ somewhere on the floor next to this old Dig Dug video game.
Alla this time I can hear talkin’ goin’ all about me. Don an’ the two old cowboys get inta a discussion about baseball, mostly about the Arizona Diamondbacks. Then discussion turns inta somethin’ of heated debate when one a the cowboys starts arguin’ with Eddie about a two a the pitchers.
‘No, No, NO!’ Eddie roars. ‘Zavada’s got a way better moustache then Randy Johnson EVER did. FUCK Randy Johnson; he can go to HELL!’
‘Oh yeah? Well FUCK YOU!!! Bob shouts. ‘I once saw the Big Unit kill a pigeon with a slider; and he didn’t just kill it, the thing fuckin’ DISINTEGRATED. Seriously, nothin’ left but blood and a coupla feathers. And this was at an exhibition game in spring training….SPRING TRAINING, man. So you can show the man some respect, and shove Zavada UP YER ASS!’
Then in an effort to avoid things comin’ to a head, the other cowboy, Clem, tries ta change the subject. ‘Hey Don, d’ya see that Eddie’s little girl wuz just on the Jerry Springer Show?’
‘Oh yeah,’ Bob chimes in, completely forgettin’ about the pitchin’ debate. ‘Me an’ Clem wuz just watchin’ her on the TV right before ya came in. She’s turnin’ ta a fine-lookin’ young lady.’
‘Yeah, Roxanne always was quite a looker,’ Don says. ‘Even back when I had her in my P.E. class; I remember the boys would all line up an’ try an catch a peek at her whenever she was in the showers.’
Eddie smiles an’ nods. ‘I remember her comin’ home from school one time an’ tellin’ me an Rosa about that. We were all proud a’ her then, ‘cos that’s when we knew she wuz gonna be somebody. An’ look at her now, all bein’ on TV an’ stuff.’
An’ fer the second time I look an’ see a tear in the corner of Eddie’s eye.
The guys all keep talkin’ ‘bout different things, but I’m not really listenin’ anymore. An after awhile, I hear the clunk of glass against the counter an’ someone softly burpin’. Out a the corner a my eye I look an’ see that Don guy push back from his barstool an reach into the pocket of his gym shorts, like he’s ready to settle the bill an’ shit.
‘Thanks Eddie,’ he says. ‘What’s that come to?’
‘Let’s see…that’s five bucks for the burger, two fifty for the beer; plus you still owe me seven from last week. So, that makes it about……$35.62.’
Don digs around in his pocket an’ comes up with a wad of crumpled bills. ‘Ahh shit,’ he spits. ‘I’ve only got $10 on me…can I pay you the rest tomorrow?’
Eddie thinks about this fer a second before answering. ‘Yeah, I guess so,’ he sighs. ‘I know yer good for it.’
‘Sorry, Eddie. I just haven’t had a chance to hit the bank. I’ll pay you back tomorrow…promise.’
‘Hey, don’t worry about it, man.’
‘Thanks buddy, I’ll pay you back tomorrow.’
‘Sure.’
Don places a five dollar bill an’ a handful a change on the counter then gives Eddie a sly wink. Eddie scoops up the change an dumps it in the open cash register.
Don gets up an’ walks out the door, an’ I’m wonderin’ what ta do. I’m thinkin’ that I should get up an’ follow him, but I don’t want to be too obvious about it. I’m still worried what he would do if he caught me out. He’d probably give my ass a good beatin. I mean, c’mon, the guy’s a gym teacher fer chirssakes; probably has all kinds a fightin’ skills an’ shit. Plus I’m on my second bowl a chilli an’ still got about a quarter of it left along with half a glass a beer. On the other hand, this is a teacher from High School Musical that we’re talkin’ about here, an’ this may be my only chance of ever getting’ to meet those kids. Fuck it, I’m going after him.
I reach inta my pocket an’ grab a handful of change, toss it onto the counter and quickly leave the place. Behind me I hear Eddie talkin’, bitchin’ bout something or other.
‘Hey…Hey man….Hey ASSHOLE!’ he shouts. ‘What the fuck is this? An expired coupon for Weatherspoons, an’ a buncha coins from England and…NAZI GERMANY?!?! What the FUCK? This ain’t even REAL MONEY, MAN! Hey, come back here…I’m TALKIN’ to you? Hey, you…. dickhead!...HEY!!’
I open the door outside just in time ta see Don walkin’ further down the street, turnin’ a corner. I follow him around the corner an’ feel like this fuckin’ cool super spy ‘cos he ain’t noticed me yet. But my heart sinks when I see him open the door an’ climb inta this car. Fuck, I don’t even occur to me that he’d be drivin’. Suddenly, I’m feelin’ really fuckin’ stupid.
The car he’s driving is a green Volkswagon Beetle, not one a the new ones but one from like the 60’s or 70’s or something.’ An it ain’t in very good condition, either. There’s patches a rust on the fenders an’ door sills, an’ there’s a big ass dent on the front wing along the driver’s side. He puts the keys in the ignition an’ the engine makes this horrible grindin’ noise before it starts. There’s this really fuckin’ loud backfire an’ the exhaust pipe, barely hangin’ on in the back, belches out a thick, acrid cloud a smoke. The Beetle sputters an’ lurches forward an’ stalls a coupla times before Don gets it rollin’ for good; an’ as the car makes its way down the street I look on the back bumper an’ see a sticker that says ‘GYM TEACHERS DO IT WITH A WHISTLE’
Shit. Now what am I gonna do? I ain’t gotta car so it’s not like I can tail him or anything. I look around to see if I can find a taxi or somethin’ maybe get him to follow him, like they do in all those spy movies but I ain’t seein’ fuck all. Then I see this chick across the street loadin’ some groceries into the back of a minivan. I figure if I act real nice an all courteous an’ shit, she might be nice an’ help me tail that guy. I’d even offer to pay her.
‘S’cuse me miss,’ I shout. ‘Hey sweetie!’
From across the street I see her turn around an’ she’s lookin’ a bit confused. Like she’s not sure who’s talkin’ to her and if it’s her that the talkins’ bein’ directed at.
‘S’cuse me, sugar; right over here,’ I say, wavin’ to her ta get her attention. She sees me an’ she looks a bit startled, like she still ain’t sure it’s her that I’m talkin’ to. I start walkin’ across the street. The lady takes a couple of steps back, like she’s gonna bolt. I’m thinkin’ maybe she’s confused because maybe she don’t speak English or somethin’ and don’t understand what I’m sayin.’ Maybe if I flash a few bucks at her so she knows I plan ta pay her, maybe she’ll calm the fuck down. So put my hand in my pocket an’ start diggin’ around.
‘Ma’am, can ya help me?’ I say. ‘I’m lookin’ fer some tail. Erm, I mean...’
Then the lady starts screamin.’ ‘Stay AWAY! Help! POLICE!!!’
She opens the door to her minivan an’ starts climbin’ in. I’m still diggin’ around in my front pocket for some money, hopin’ that once she see’s the cash, she’ll hear me out. I’m feelin’ around but I ain’t findin’ shit. Damn, I know I’ve got a dollar bill somewhere in there. By now the chick’s in her car an’ about ta shut the door.. I pick up my pace an’ start runnin’ across the street, while still diggin’ around in my pockets fer that buck. Some asshole in a Nissan Xterra nearly hits me.
‘No lady, ya got it all wrong,’ I say. ‘Look, I’m gonna PAY YA!!’
I grab the door before she’s got a chance to shut it, but she’s still holdin’ onta the handle, tryin’ ta get the door shut.
‘Get AWAY from me, you creep! HELP!! HEEELLLLPP! THIS GUY’S GOING TO RAPE MEEE!!!!’
‘RAPE you? No, baby ya don’t understand,’ I plead. ‘I’ve got money, I’m gonna pay ya…I just wanna tail..’
Then alla the sudden I hear this guy shouting at me from behind. I turn around an I see this cop comin’ towards me. This huge black guy, an he looks pissed.
‘YOU, in the afro wig an’ glasses; step away from the vehicle, NOW!!’
I loosen my grip on the car door, an the lady slams it shut. Unfortunately my other hand’s on the door sill an’ my fingers get caught.
‘Auughh Fuck! My fingers!!’
Then the cop whips his gun outta his holster an’ points it at me.
‘HANDS in the AIR, MUTHAFUCKA!!’
‘I can’t, my hand’s stuck in this bitch’s car door.’
The cop motions for the lady to open her door. She opens it a crack an’ I quickly pull my bruised fingers from the door sill before she slams it shut again. My fingers are really hurtin’ now. They’re throbbin’…literally throbbin’. My finger tips are all swollen an’ purple an’ shit. The nail on my pointin’ finger is all black; and the one on my middle finger is danglin’ off the end of my finger, like it’s about ready to fall off. Owwchh! Goddamn, just lookin’ at my hand is makin’ it hurt even more. I go to waive my hand an put my fingers in my mouth, like suckin’ on em is somehow gonna make ‘em better. But then the cop jabs his gun at me an’ starts screamin’ again, raisin’ his voice an’ shit.
‘I SAID HANDS IN THE AIR, NOW!!’
‘Aww, c’mon, man, my fingers are fuckin’ killing me.’
The cop keeps waiving his gun, aiming it at me, still screamin.’ ‘BUDDY, I WILL FUCKING SHOOT YOU IN THE FACE IF YOU DO NOT GET THOSE GODDAMNED HANDS IN THE AIR, NOW!!!!’
Now the chick in the car starts her car up and is about to drive off. Then the cop starts shoutin’ at her. ‘Ma’am, please STAY WHERE YOU ARE.’
But she don’t hear him an’ pulls out from her parkin’ space. I hafta move outta the way as she reverses back and then goes forward an’ peels out, rocketing down the street at a speed. Meanwhile the cop is still shoutin’ at her.
‘MA’AM, please remain where you are….Ma’am! MISS! Please stay here, I need to get a statement…..MA’AM! Please DO NOT LEAVE!! MA’AM….. I need to get a STATEMENT from you! I NEED TO KNOW IF YOU’RE GOING TO PRESS CHARGES AGAINST THIS MAN! MA’AM!! MA’AM!!!! AWWW. C’MON…. I NEED TO….shit!’
As she races past us, I see a bumper sticker on the back of her mini-van that says ‘SOCCER MOMS DO IT WITH A YELLOW CARD.’
The cop starts to chase after her on foot, but when it’s clear that he ain’t gonna catch up to her, he stops an’ just stands in the middle of the street an’ sighs. ‘Fuck, the chief is gonna kill me,’ he mutters.
I think about bolting myself, wonderin’ if the cop will notice that I’m even gone. But then I remember that he’s got a gun and he’d probably shoot me so I’m really tryin’ ta figger out what ta do, here, ‘cos I don’t wanna go to jail, but I don’t wanna get shot either. So I’m standin’ there with my hands above my head, worried about what the cop’s gonna do. Then alla the sudden another cop car pulls up. Shit, I figger I’m really fucked at this point. But then, get this, the second cop – a white guy, he don’t even notice me. He drives along side the first cop, rolls down his window an’ starts talkin’ to him.
‘Hey Reed,’ he shouts. ‘Y’know that Dunkin’ Donuts up over on West 47th?’
‘Yeah, so what about it?’
‘MacDonald was went over there last Tuesday; said that there’s this new chick there workin’ nights behind the counter. She ain’t much to look at in the face, but she’s got tits out ta here.’
‘Yeah? Keep talkin’, Malloy.’
‘Well she’s got a thing fer the boys in blue, if ya know what I mean…hehe.’
‘Is that so,’ Reed says, an’ I can see him startin’ ta perk up.
‘MacDonald said that when he was over there she took him round back to the store room…gave him the best blowjob he’s ever had in his life!’
‘Right on!’ Reed shouts. Then he starts gyratin’ his hips an’ pumpin’ his fist in the air. ‘Whoooeeee!’
‘Yeah, you know it, baby!’ Malloy laughs. ‘Whattaya say we go down there an’ tap soma that ass. Get our knobs slobbed AND get free bear claws?!?’
‘FUCK yeah! I’M IN!!’
Reed shouts again and dances over to the passenger side of the cop car, opens the door and jumps in. As the car rolls past me, it slows down an’ Malloy, the white cop, rolls down his window.
‘Hey man, ya wanna come with us?’ he asks me.
‘Ermm. No thanks, I’m good.’ I tell him.
The cop turns an says somethin’ to Reed then turns back to me, an shrugs his shoulders.
‘Okay,’ he says. ‘Suit yourself. It’s your loss.’
Then he presses down on the accelerator an’ there’s flashin’ lights and a siren wail as the cop car burns rubber down the street. As he passes me I see a bumper sticker on the back of his patrol car that says ‘POLICE DO IT WITH HANDCUFFS AND A TASER.’
I never did find the coach VW again.
The end
Munzly
Great story! Just laughed me sox off!