Porn Again, A Novel-Part Eighteen

CONTINUED FROM PART SEVENTEEN...

Several days, several hours, several glasses of wine, and several intimate and nostalgic musings later, Happy found himself wandering the streets of the Quarter. Figuring it would be a nice way to enjoy a day after work, he stopped into a local bar for a drink and also to clear a few things up. Truly becoming a local, it no longer felt weird going out for drinks in the middle of the day. The bar in question that Starscream directed him to was further into the Quarter, toward the lower end of Bourbon. Not surprisingly, the name of the establishment was Oz. With Blake out of the hospital after that horrible debacle, some things needed to be cleared up. Not too much of a crowd, just a few stragglers and some tourists, all of whom made the obvious effort to check him out. At this point, he could’ve cared less. A beer by any other name was just as much a bad choice during the middle of the day.

“You look lost,” Blake said as he turned on his stool. “You do know this is a gay bar right?”

Considering what he’d gone through recently, only a few minor scrapes and bruises were still visible. Tough kid.

“Is the beer in this place going to make me want to suck somebody’s cock?” Happy asked. “Is that why it’s 2 for 1 right now?”

“What are you doing in here?”

He motioned to the bartender. “Abita Amber please?”

“You slumming?”

“Look, Starscr…Julie told me you’d probably be here, so I wanted to stop by and apologize.”

“You don’t say.”

“Alright Blake, I’ll admit that how I grew up homosexuality wasn’t exactly something that was condoned. Truth be told, I don’t agree with your lifestyle but it is your life. If that’s who you are, then that’s who you are. Sorry for making you responsible for something you didn’t provoke. Anyway, how are you holding up?”

Blake stared at him for a moment, making him feel a bit uneasy.

“Jesus Christ, at least meet me halfway kid. You’ve got to understand how difficult it was for me to come here.”

“And you’ve got to understand how difficult it is for us to serve ignorant, simple-minded douchebags,” the bartender chimed in, slamming the bottle on the counter. “Don’t worry, it’s HIV-free.”

“Dude, I’m sorry. I didn’t-“

“Please. Don’t, ok? If I wanted to listen to a bunch of mindless, passive-aggressive, back-peddling bullshit during this time of the day, I’d either go to church or the dyke bar down the street.”

Blake studied him intently.

“Your wife left you, didn’t she?”

This was a subject that was never going to get old. “Why the hell is everyone in the store so curious about my wife?”

“You’re a married man who came from Florida to New Orleans just to sell sex toys. And we’re all supposed to believe that this was just some spur-of-the-moment career change? Tell me Hap, how does one go from selling Bibles and bookmarks to butt plugs?”

“Bibles and bookmarks?” the bartender asked.

“Yeah. The boss man here ran a Christian bookstore down in Fort Lauderdale.”

The bartender studied him carefully. “Are you suicidal?”

“What? No! For the last goddamn time, I am not suicidal!”

“Sir we have a strict policy against blasphemy in this establishment. Blowjobs and barebacking are par for the course, but there will be no taking of thy Lord’s name in vain here.”

“Alright look,” Happy continued. “The reason I moved here is because I got laid off from my job back home. That same day I went home and caught my wife in bed with our next-door neighbor. Needless to say, it’s been a bad year for me so far.”

“Damn, you caught her in your own house with another man?” the bartender asked. “In your bed?”

Happy nodded.

The bartender quickly took Happy’s Abita away, replacing it with a thicker and more full-bodied pint of Guinness.

“On the house.”

“What did the guy look like?” Blake asked. “Was he at least cute?”

“He was some big, jacked-up Black guy. I swear to God, I think he’s fucked nearly half the women in the neighborhood. Should’ve known he’d find his way to Candy sooner or later.”

Just as he was beginning to take a sip of his new drink, the bartender poured three shots of Fireball Whiskey for each of them and nodded his approval in Happy’s direction. This was a bad idea already. They killed them quickly.

“So how long were you guys married?”

“Too long. Then again, maybe not long enough, shit I don’t know. She said that I was too focused on work and that I didn’t give her enough. Maybe she was right.”

“Well sorry boss. I’m afraid I’m gonna have to call bullshit on that one. Even if you didn’t give her enough Hap, that still didn’t justify what she did. You seem like a great guy, and you’ve done a hell of a job with the store. Things will come around eventually.”

“What’s the issue with your father? I tried to get in to see you at the hospital but he wasn’t too much a fan of that.”

“Let’s just say he’s no different from the people back where you come from. Kicked me out of the house right after I left the hospital and told me this was God’s way of teaching me a lesson. Anyway, I moved in with some friends. I’ll be okay Hap, trust me. And I know I’ve got work today.

Thanks for all the help with the schedule.”

He took a moment to chug down his beer. Guinness was a mighty fine suggestion. He’d have to remember that.

“I’m gonna get out of here. I’ve got a mountain of things to prepare for, most notably an impending divorce that I still haven’t started yet. Thanks for the chat…and the drinks.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“By the way, this changes nothing. You’re on schedule to close tonight. If I call the store and find out you either showed up late or half drunk, I’m writing your ass up.”

Blake laughed. “Will do.”

Happy shook the bartender’s hand. “Thanks for the drinks sir, and no offense earlier.”

“None taken. By the way, I’m Sylvester.”

“Nice meeting you. I’m Happy.”

Sylvester winked at him. “Not yet but if you meet me here later, you will be."

***

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART NINETEEN...