"So I don't see a problem here."
"You don't? Really? Are you a fucking idiot?"
"No. I'm not a 'fucking idiot'. I'm the smartest friend you have." I laughed, if Charlie thought he was the smartest friend I had, I needed new friends. That might have been the case anyway. I looked around the bar, found a pair of long stockinged legs that jumped into a Christmas red skirt and I stared. A forty-something blonde was attached to the legs, giggling and drinking with a male companion. 'Tis the season,' I thought to myself. That was the present I wanted, right there in those black nylons. I tore my prying eyes away from the legs, took a sip of my beer, and looked back at Charlie to hear just what made him so smart. "Marky, my man. What you gotta do is simple. You say she likes the bad boys? You say she wants to dump you because you're a prude?"
"That's the gist of it..." I said looking above Charlie's head at a string of silver garland that was hanging off the bar's old, peeling wallpaper.
"Not a problem. Not a problem, Marky!" I hated when Charlie called me Marky, my name was Mark Sharkowski, and other than Charlie, my friends called me The Shark or Sharky. "She wants a bad boy. You give her one. You go to her place and turn it on thick. Thick! She wants to be dominated, Marky, so you do it. You push her around a bit. Push her against the wall and bite her neck. Push her onto the bed. Tear off her stockings, rip off her dress, thrust your fucking cock in, man!"
"Yeah right, that's me. Fuck, dude. Change my whole personality over night?" Redefining one's personality isn't like throwing some crummy plastic ornaments over a shitty bar to give it a Christmas-makeover. At least I didn't think that was how it worked.
"It'd be a Christmas gift to yourself. Christ, Marky. Remember when you were The Shark? Mark Sharkowki, the fucking Shark! You used to impale women all over campus. What happened to you, man?" The Shark, a comedy of a name if there ever was one. My college persona was long since drowned in a sea of dead-end jobs and overbearing girlfriends. College. A different girl every week, every night if I wanted. Where'd I go wrong?
I sipped my beer and remembered that the Shark died when Charlene Ingram killed him, the ego-crushing bitch that she was. Now I felt like a mere shell of a man, left in the desert of relationships to fend for himself -- and failing miserably.
"The Shark?" I said, "The Shark's dead, Charlie."
"Depressing shit, man. Know what you need? You need a shot." Charlie called Tammy over. Tammy was always our waitress, no matter which section of this dive she was working. She'd worked at Fiddler's Grove as long as I'd been coming and likely for ten years before that. And she'd be working here for another ten years after I quit the joint. Tammy strolled over with her slender frame, tight black jeans and tiny t-shirt torn low at the neck. She smiled like always, exposing some wrinkles through her thick makeup. She was a fading-beauty if I'd ever seen one, but I still wanted to lay it in her. Just once. Her thin bird lips weren't sexy, but they were always painted dark red. Besides, I figured a woman with searing eyes like Tammy's must know a thing or two about sucking a dick. What I wouldn't give to ask for a blowie downstairs behind the empty kegs.
"Marky's being depressing again, Tammy."
"Aww, sugar!" Tammy said bending in towards me, showing off what little cleavage she had to offer. I looked at her eyes, smiled dryly, looked at her cleavage, spotted more Christmas red, this time in the form of a lacy bra. It was December the thirteenth and it seemed as though every woman was excited to show off their Christmas cheer. Who could complain? "I know what'll make everything better," and she winked at me. Was I getting that blowjob behind the kegs?
"Two Jacks, hun. And two more beer. Feel free to give Marky a handy under the table when you get back," and Charlie burst into laughter at his own crude joke.
"Hey!" I said, letting my prudish attitude get the better of me yet again. Charlene turned me into a prude, then dumped me. Now there was Laura, an old college friend. She was trying to turn me into my old self again, but sensing failure, was going to dump me too. She'd mentioned her disappointment in my attitude a few times, but no woman dumps a man within a week of Christmas. Might as well get that last gift in hand.
"He's a card, isn't he, Sharky?" Tammy said with a raspy giggle. She sauntered off, shaking her tiny ass behind her. I watched her slide away behind the bar. Then looked at the black-stockinged legs again. Then finished my beer.
"Marky. Every time we come here you eye Tammy like you want to fuck her. She'd do it too. Just ask."
"Fuck, dude. I can't ask. It's cliché. Ask the waitress for..." I trailed off.
"Maybe Laura's right. You are a prude. And there's no escape." I nodded in agreement. "Shit! You weren't supposed to agree! You were supposed to get all angry and prove me wrong. Fuck!" I could only laugh at myself. "If I'm you?" Charlie started waving his finger in my face, "If I were you I would have the shot that's gonna be here in ten fucking seconds, fuck Tammy directly, have another fucking shot, go home and fuck hell out of Laura. Then dump her and have a merry fucking Christmas!"
"Charming."
"And in the process, you save yourself a gift." I had already bought Laura a smart looking silver Seiko watch. It was about four hundred dollars and when I was in the store I was sure Laura would know how I felt about her when she saw it. "You don't still want to give her that fucking watch do you?"
"Yeah..."
"Fuck! She likes bad boys and you bought her a Seiko." When it was put that way, he wasn't wrong. Not to mention that Laura would just take the gift and dump me anyway. Cruel fate.
"Two shots, two beers, boys," Tammy said putting the beverages down. She put her elbows on the table, and held her head up with her hands to show off those itty-bitty tities once again. I wanted them in my mouth. Right after my shot.
"To love," I said and slammed the shot back, then slapped the glass against the table. Charlie did the same. Laura was right. I was a prude. But Charlie didn't have to be right too, there was an escape. Just flip every prudish impulse in my body. Seemed easy enough. "I gotta take a piss," I said, "Wanna follow me down and give me head behind the kegs, Tammy?" I don't know if Charlie or Tammy was more shocked by my outburst. I stared into Tammy's eyes inquiringly.
Getting over the initial shock, Tammy smiled broadly and leaned in to whisper in my ear, "You better not be too drunk to get hard, Sharky." Before Tammy backed away she licked my earlobe and I felt my cock leap to attention, pressing up against my jeans, trying to get free.
I stood up and said, "Come find out," as I walked across the bar to the stairs that led to the washrooms and to the adjacent room full of empty kegs. I stopped in at the Men's, took out my hard cock and made a piss-poor show of hitting the urinal. I washed my hands and walked out, but instead of going back up the stairs I went over one room further to where those empty kegs sat. In the far corner there were some boxes of Christmas decorations that hadn't been hung off the walls and lights. Leaning against the wall kegs I looked at the unpainted walls and the cobwebs that didn't exude any Christmas spirit at all and thought that of all the rooms in Fiddler's Grove, this was the one that needed the most decorating.
