Wild Goose on Fly–Jalapeno Peppers & Beer Part 2

Flash frozen on my bar stool I couldn’t hear a sound.  My ears were vibrating like a tuning fork.   Just as I was preparing to crawl under the nearest table, the bartender slammed a bat on the bar.

“Goll dang it Floyd!  You are such a friggin’ nuisance.  Gimme that stupid gun.”

Meekly Friar Tuck handed over the gun, “Sorry.”

” Sorry doesn’t put frost on my beer  mug.   Let’s  hope nobody calls the sheriff.  Last time I had to give him a keg of my best microbrew, which you still owe me for.”   With each word the bartender jammed his bat against the big man’s chest.  “And this time you call Pete to fix the ceiling.  Pronto, ya hear.”

My disjointed thoughts jumped around like leap frogs.  What last time?  Was this a regular occurrence?  On the bright side at least I didn’t have to test my bum knee to see if it would bend  enough for me to dive under a table.  I downed a deep swig of beer and melodramatically wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.  It seemed like the appropriate action for the situation.

Hands on her hips and kohl ringed eyes blazing, Cheryl stood in front of Floyd hissing, “Your sucky behavior drives me CRAZY.  Why would I want to be with someone who doesn’t trust me, just because now and then I don’t come home at night?  Sometimes I like to spend a little time with other men.  If you would watch Dr. Phil like I ask you to,”  Cheryl’s voice was increasing in volume.  ” You would know in today’s world a woman has to actively build her self esteem.  It’s a gift to her man.”

Cheryl’s tone dropped to low and silky. “It’s so easy for a girl to be smashed  flat by a big manly steamroller like  you.  You wouldn’t want me to get all flat would you?”  She licked her finger and ran it along his cheek, as she pressed her body against him.

Floyd stoked her shoulder with his mammoth hand. ” No, I don’t want you to get all flat.  I like you all nice and round and warm.  Aw Cheryl, let’s just go home and make up our special way.”

I leaned forward.  Realizing I was in the presence of a profoundly talented manipulator, I didn’t want to miss a single word or gesture.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spied the young man quickly edging along the perimeter of the room toward the door.  His face as white as the jasmine rice at Bobby Chang’s and the front of his tailored slacks was wet.  His departure was unnoticed by Cheryl and Floyd, who were now slow dancing suggestively on a miniscule dance floor to music only they could hear.  Grey man was still at his post at the end of the bar and the bartender was sweeping up chunks of ceiling tile.

Cheryl whispered into Floyd’s ear.  Drat I wondered what she was saying.  Whatever it was, it caused Floyd to light up like a Las Vegas marquee.   Scooping her up he whirled her around.

I tipped back my head to take another sip of beer.  The bottle was empty.  How did that happen?  They must be making the bottles smaller.

“Bartender, I would like another beer please.  And when you make those nachos, add the jalapenos.”

Just like that I started eating jalapenos—another never crossed off my list.

With my third beer I saluted my own image in the mirror behind the bar.  Here’s to you Babe.  Continue to cross those nevers off your list.   And just a thought to consider, before you drink that third beer it might be wise to find out if there is  a motel in this town for the night.