Another Night for the Books

Featured on “for the sake of liquid jake”: Episode 3.

This hairdresser —I’d tell you her name, but I bet you won’t remember— and this warehouse worker —you definitely wouldn’t remember him— they had dinner at their local sports bar. It was her fortieth birthday, and to celebrate they went somewhere special. The same restaurant they go to every week without fail. 

“Maybe if you behave,” The Warehouse Man said. “I’ll buy yuh ‘nother one.” The Haircut Girl laughed, crossing her legs under the table. She’d finished her first Pabst Blue Ribbon —the elixir of the working man. She hadn’t held it in her hand for very long, but boy, she knows how to have a good time! Warehouse Man nursed his drink for a little longer than she did.

In December, the warehouse was more insane than during the rest of the year. Endlessly, they filled boxes with different kinds of beer. The work weren’t none too glamorous, but dang it, them boxes ain’t gonna fill themselves!

He carried alotta stress around the stomach, meaning he drank a lot. Most beers he got from punctured packages —for a discounted price. That money he saved kept him out of poverty. I mean, it kept him not-starving. Usually, he was stumbling within the hour he got off work, but on a night like this, he had his little momma to take care of.

The waiter brought her another beer when he came with the food. Before he could head back to the kitchen, Warehouse Man snatched his collar. “By the way,” he said. “It’s my lady’s very happy birthday today. And she’d like summa that spongey-cake.” 

“Oh daddy, you know just how to make me whistle.” She said, then let that upper-lip wiggle! He smiled. “Anything for my little sumthin’,” he said. She admired him as he kept his eyes focused on the football game.

This close to Christmas, there were few moments that she could relax in. One hour of bathtub and wine before bed was not enough! Their weekly dinner dates were a regular reprieve from the hustle and bustle of the salon.

People were always coming in for a make-over. And none of them were happy with just “a little off the top”. They all ask for these urban hair-dos that she just cain’t figure out. They were certainly different. She wasn’t one for dusting her cosmetology license. And thus, she grew miserable. She never made tips like the younger, braver, and nicer girls did. 

After she ate that sponge cake (which was hardly bigger than the spoon she ate it with), the Warehouse Man spilled out his surprise. Inside a box wrapped in newspaper was a new razor set! The same one she told him about several times!

“You told me I didn’t need it!”

“Well, everybody's gotta be spoil’d sometimes.”

“Thanks daddy. Now I can do my job a lil better.”

“Not better, momma. Just more.”

After they finished up their supper, they went out to the car and moved around inside of each other for a few minutes, like they were still in their early thirties. Outside the car was freezing, but inside was… warmer. It’d been some time since they’d been intimate. He almost fell asleep afterwards. 

Then, they drove around for a while, listening to whatever the radio told them to. Their Mississippi city was empty. It was the desolate season. Few stayed out past 8 PM.

Eventually, they had had their fun. He dropped her off at her apartment by the airport. Her old-lady-landlord was upset. She was up past her bedtime. Haircut Girl needed to get her ass inside and get the old woman ready for bed. As she slid into her winter jacket, she told him: "This was my best birthday in years."