I managed to get the Mickey back into Alabaster's hands on the third round of drinks. He downed it during our conversation on acoustics and soundproofing. Too bad he was such a creepy fuck because he was intelligent and interesting. It took half an hour for the drink to take effect. By then, I was a little tipsy myself and frustrated. I had started to look at Joy again with not the purest of thoughts. This was beginning to have all the earmarks of a long weekend.
The bar was getting crowded and uncomfortable. I didn't drink anything that wasn't handed to me by Joy. We shuffled drinks back and forth until the time it was to make our move.
"Okay, boys, give mommy the keys. You two have had enough. I'm calling you a cab."
Saturday 6:40 PM
Alabaster was fading fast. Joy stood there in front of us, legs spread, one hand on her hip, the other outstretched to us. I followed along and gave her my keys. Joy asked the bartender for the number of a cab company they used. He gave her a card from under the bar, and she phoned while I tried my best to keep old Alli involved in the conversation. He still hadn't handed his keys over.
"Buddy, she's going to call us a cab. I'm pretty wasted myself and tired. I think she's gonna hang out a while. We can share a cab, right?"
I thought that would interest him a little, at least. He did, after all, try and spike my drink more than once. He nodded but still no keys.
"Okay, boys, finish up, the cab should be here in a few minutes, and I will wait with you to make sure you're okay," Joy said sternly.
I prodded Alli, and we both downed our drinks; mine tasted like straight ginger ale. I had passed so many drinks back and forth with my would-be date rapist I had no idea what he was drinking.
He heard Joy say she was ready to settle up and made a half-hearted effort to remove his wallet, which he dropped on the floor. Then nearly fell on the floor himself, chasing after it and pulling me with him.
He picked it up and stood, propping himself on my shoulder and on the bar stool. We looked like a drunken pair of frat boys. I leaned in and told him that Joy had taken care of it. It was at that point I think he caught on somewhat. Alli looked into my eyes and smiled. He fumbled around in his cargo shorts, came out with the keys, and held them in front of me in surrender.
"Joy, I called loudly.
Thank goodness she was at least half paying attention. She grabbed them quickly from Alli.
"Thanks, sport," she said, twirling them in the air.
"Couldn't have you two getting in an accident. You're both so precious," Joy said, hugging us both around our shoulders.
In a few more minutes, we were going to the door. The barkeep asked her if she needed any help getting us out, but she politely declined. Alli was not sure-footed at all. In fact, I had to let him use me as a crutch while Joy just walked behind us. This was getting worse by the moment, and in all honesty, I thought we were just going to dump him in the parking lot outback. I had no real idea what was going on at that point, only that we were finally getting the hell out of there.
I managed to get him through the door and outside, where we leaned against the front of the building. It wasn't but a few more minutes when the cab pulled up to the curb in front of us. Joy went to the cab and leaned in the passenger door as I struggled to get the ever collapsing Alabaster to his feet and across the wide sidewalk to the waiting taxi. That damn Joy didn't even open the door for me. I leaned Alli against the cab and got it myself. I went to help him in when he turned suddenly with the last bit of strength he had and managed to kiss me squarely on the mouth. I lost my cool and staggered backward as if I had been shot. I spit and cussed. Then movement out of the corner of my right eye caught my attention.
I have never been so happy to see a wino in my life. He was staggering reasonably straight up the sidewalk, only feet away. I stepped toward him, snatched the brown bag from his hand, and poured whatever was in the bag into my mouth and down my face, shirt, and all over everything. He was starting to put up an argument in protest, and I didn't blame him.
Joy had piled Alli into the cab when I pushed the wino away and watched the cab pull away from the curb.
"Come on," she said.
"Wait!" I yelled.
She stopped suddenly and waited while I pulled a twenty out of my wallet and handed it to the bum.
"Are you ready now?" She asked impatiently.
"Yes, dear, I'm ready now," I grunted, exasperated at how the whole situation was going.
"I'm not sure I'm good to drive."
"Well, you fuckin' better be." She demanded as we walked to the crowded parking lot behind the bar.
"That was some fucking scene you made back there. What the hell is that stink anyway?" She asked, sniffing me.
"Scene? Listen, wise-ass, did you see what happened?"
"A fuckin' kiss, big deal. You didn't have to kiss back or anything. If I hadn't been here, you probably would have had much worse."
"Fuck you! If you hadn't been here, I wouldn't have been here. I don't fuckin' get into shit like this on my own!"
She threw me the keys to her Jeep.
I caught them and threw them right back but harder and overhanded too. Joy wasn't ready for that, and they hit her square in the chest with a thump and dropped to the ground.
"Oh no. Hell no! I had to be the flirt, I had to get the Mickey, I had to get kissed. You were wrong the whole fucking time. I'm driving the Goddamned Lamborghini!"
I don't know what made her relent, but she did, quickly and simply too. She picked up her keys and tossed me the keys to the Eddie. I caught them and walked past her to the lowest damn car I had ever seen in my life. I stood and looked at my reflection in the window. I looked like shit, smelled terrible, too, like a cheap three-day drunk. There was no damn door handle or lock.
"Well?" Joy prodded.
"Well, how the hell do you get in the damn thing?"
She snatched the keys from me and put them into the button concealed in the black slotted vent behind the door glass. She pushed the button, and the door made an audible metal clunk as it opened.
Then without further words, she put the keys in my hands.
"Don't even fucking start it if you're not good, though. There are only 500 or so of these things left in the world, and none of them were ever owned by Eddie rocks your face VanHalen."
"I got it," I huffed.
"Okay, get home and clean up. I'm going to make a pass through Buckhead before I come home. Sasha told me Mystic would be there for a release party for one of his flunkies. I'm going to see what I can see. I'll be home shortly. Keep your phone on."
"Got it," I barked my affirmation and waved a dismissive hand in the air.
She blew me a kiss and went to her Jeep, started it up and backed out, and waited on me. Damn, she could give orders. I climbed in and felt like I was sitting on the ground. It took me another minute or two to adjust the seat and to realize I couldn't see out the back window. Finally, I fired the engine, and that baby had grunt! Headlights were on, reverse gear in the shift gate, and we were off. I followed Joy slowly and carefully up Juniper and made a right.
The car was much easier to drive than I imagined for a car of that age. The pedals were standard, although a little far apart. The clutch felt like I was stepping on a ripe peach, whereas the gas pedal was stiff like an anchor was tied to the other end. The steering wheel rested on my knees. It handled agile enough, but the one thing I found out immediately is that damn V-twelve didn't like going slow. The thousands of Italian motor parts clanked and sputtered and backfired through the twin pipes on downshifts and even quick releases of the gas pedal. I could hear the carburetors sucking air only inches behind my head through the firewall behind me.
We turned left on Tenth Street and passed the Four Seasons hotel, the location where all this mess was set into motion. I followed Joy as far as the freeway access ramp, but as soon as we turned right onto the ramp itself, I hit the gas, shifted to third, and passed her like she was going in reverse. I would have given her a blast if I knew where the horn was. Suddenly the popping and hesitation stopped, and the engine began to growl steadily as I shifted to forth. At speed, the steering became amazingly light. All I could hear was the mechanical music of the engine doing its thing. Traffic was light heading north, so I took the inside lane and shifted the gentle monster into fifth. It smoothed out even further. I looked down, and I was going one hundred and fifteen miles per hour.
No damn wonder traffic was light; I was passing most of it. I backed off quickly, even shifted back to forth to avoid lugging the grumbling engine only inches behind me. Joy was nowhere to be seen, and I would keep it that way. I wondered why in the hell Mystic had lent this car to a wanker like Alabaster. And I just knew she would come up with something on her trip through Buckhead. I was dead dog tired, and sure as shit, that is when another car would pop up. I had to get home and clean up quick. The uncomfortable and uncanny feeling of a very long night was washing over me like a wave of dread.
The smooth Dellortos behind my head were humming me to sleep. Not a miss or hesitation. I had settled the car down to a very comfortable eighty miles per hour with plenty of pedal left should I need it. Eddie Van Halen, I thought to myself, then yawned, speeding up the freeway toward home. Little did I know how long that night was going to be.