The Cavana

Straighten Up And Fly Right

There it was, up in lights. The Cavana Jazz Club. "You know, we really should've went for purple" Dean said, patting me reassuringly on the back. "Nah, blue fits. It goes with the subtlety but power of jazz don't you think?". Eartha got out of the car, one leg at a time, boy that girl sure knew how to tease. "You boys been on that wacky dust again, it's a sign damn it, I don't think the gated community of San Francisco's worried about a fucking sign!". That's why we loved Eartha. Good sense of humour but straight to the point, let's just hope she stays that way when the money's moving. "Now, how about that drink" Remarked Dean. Dean was the cool one out of the three of us. He was smart but acted dumb, clever move for this sort of business. Eartha was sharp and witty, played the fair maiden to all those drunken bastards looking for a heartache by the number. For someone so provocative and sexualised, she was a civilised woman who liked the higher quality side of life and I don't blame her. And for me? I keep myself to myself.

"We made it boys!" Exclaimed Eartha as we walked into the bar. Dean had poured himself and me a whisky and a bourbon for the lady of course. "Now remember, no Italian and no real names. We do all this below board and hopefully this time it'll work out like it's supposed to". Dean hastily replied " okay Paisan, it'll upset ol' mama back in ol' Sicily but I can miss the linguini for the sake of a few thousand dollars". Eartha responded "Vaffanculo, you understand that boy?". To me and you, that's go fuck yourself in Italian. "So, we got these names worked out yet?" Asked Dean. "Yeah, Deano Marietti I now pronounce you as Dean Martin". "Dean Martin? Nobody's called Dean fucking Martin. You expect the cops to buy that?". "Listen you fucking moron" I exclaimed, "You said it yourself, nobody is called Dean Martin, of course they'll buy it". "You know that does sound familiar" Eartha remarked. "So, what you got lined up for me". "You my lovely sweet dearest Eartha Valencia are now Miss Eartha Valentine". I saw the smile on her face. "I like it, it's got a nice ring to it. How'd you think of that one?". "He was thinking of you on Valentine's Day, should've heard the vulgar things he was saying after a few drinks" commented Dean. He always had a thing for Eartha and to be honest, so did I. He's always assumed it was a competition though. "Yeah, very funny Deany boy, don't let that whisky get to your head like it did before". Dean kept quite with somewhat of a shamed expression slapped across his face. "So, what about yourself then?" Asked Eartha. "Raymond Molicia-Giovanni is probably the most Italian out of all of us". "Me? Well I'm going to be Ray Monroe, sound good?" Once again, Dean was the first to respond, "place a bet for the first one who gets caught out cause of his stupid fucking name" he chuckled. We talked for what seemed like hours. Three friends, working the system, in it together. This is it, this is us and we're gonna enjoy it this time around.