Chapter Eleven
Joe and Jenny decided to brave the cold water shower, but when Joe experimented with the hot water, it belched and put out some nasty looking brown water before it became clear.
"Cool," said Jenny, and Joe adjusted it to a bearable heat before they shared it. It got cold by the time they rinsed.
"I guess we'll be soaping up with the water off," Joe decided.
"Yep."
They got dressed in their Max's uniform and headed to the subway that would eventually get them fairly close to Max's.
"We need to talk," Joe told Gene as soon as they arrived.
"Get your food and I'll meet you in the back room," Gene sighed.
Once the two settled onto a table to eat, Joe realized he didn't have the schedule. "Shit," he said.
"What?" Jenny asked.
"When are the shows?"
Jenny smirked and pulled out a folded piece of paper from her purse. She ended up handing Gene the paper when Gene sat immediately after.
"What's this?" Gene asked.
"I didn't know things would be happening so soon," Joe apologized.
"It's the tour of the dance company I'm in," Jenny explained.
"You didn't know?" Gene asked.
"No," both Jenny and Joe replied.
"If it's Jenny's dance company...," Gene started.
"The head of the company insists I accompany her," Joe said. "We're actually collaborating on the next show."
"Among other things," Jenny said quietly so that Joe only heard. Looking at her, he saw the most complicated expression he'd ever seen on her face, especially for how uncomplicated she tended to be. She squeezed his hand as if to say something like "Later," or maybe, "It's okay." Complicated.
"So you'll be available this week and next?" Gene asked.
"Yes," they both said.
"Would you mind working a full five days?" Gene asked.
"Sorry," said Jenny. "It'll be hard enough waking up early tomorrow."
"Not you Jenny. A couple of the waiters wanted some time off. I didn't want to say no, and if you work a couple more nights..."
"Sure, Gene," Joe said. "As much as you want."
"Six nights?"
"Sure."
"Great!"
"You're not firing me?" Jenny asked.
"Tempting but no," Gene smiled.
"Thanks."
"So during the tour...?" Gene asked.
"Probably not," Joe said. "I think we'll be going from city to city."
"Let me know when you're back."
"Thanks Gene."
"No guarantees."
"Of course not."
"You've always been one of the better workers, and willing to bus and wash dishes...Let's just say your flexibility is a plus."
"Glad to hear."
After Gene left, Joe sighed. "That went better than expected."
"Gene's cool," said Jenny.
"He sort of defines it," Joe chuckled.
Thursdays tended to be the busiest of the weekdays, sort of the locals time to party before what everyone called the bridge and tunnel crowd, the ones from New Jersey and Long Island, invaded on the weekend. This night proved not to be an exception, and the band upstairs, the Scientists, a white reggae band far better than that sounds, had a significant fan base, so that kept Jenny busy as well. Joe bussed and washed dishes, keeping busy throughout. He got his ten percent (or however much the waiters were willing to pay him) and Gene paid him the low hourly wage from the week before, also in cash. Jenny definitely made more upstairs. It wasn't a contest. Joe was pleased at Jenny's happiness at her gain.
She spent some of it on the cab ride home, including the time waiting for Joe to pick up take home food from Katz on Houston.
Despite the gin gimlets, it took time to wind down. Time taken, after another quick shower mostly for Joe's benefit, making love slowly and tiredly and successfully and not just in them passing out after.
They awoke when the alarm went off far too early. Jenny insisted he sleep and he happily accepted her insistence, waking up at ten.
He thought about finishing up typing the long poem for Carol but instead decided to head uptown. There was a dime bag of heroin awaiting him. He had no intention of shooting up then or maybe never, though he doubted that would happen. Instead he wanted to collect it along with his works and whatever else he'd left there for changing when he and Jenny planned to stay there and use the shower. But the shower worked at the studio, so, except for convenience, walking crosstown and not taking subways or cabs downtown, there really was no excuse to remain in that environment of temptation. He'd grab his stuff and leave the key. He hoped none of his roommates would be up yet, especially Gail.
Unfortunately Gail had her door opened. She sat on her bed, a notebook in her lap, writing. She looked especially pretty, probably her wide smile.
"Hey Joe," she said somewhat quietly. The roommates slept in the next room.
Joe stepped into her room. "What are you working on?"
"Richard Hell finally let me interview him. He was an asshole about it of course, but I guess I outlasted him, hanging with his band, conversations bringing him out somewhat."
"That's great," Joe said and meant it.
"Being a persistent bitch has its merits," she laughed. "Want to hear?" She had a small reel to reel beside her.
"No that's okay. I was just going to grab some stuff. Uhm, you wouldn't happen to have some cocaine?"
"I do! I actually figured you'd want some for a speedball."
She bounced off the bed and opened a drawer of her dresser. The long t shirt she wore which teased a glance at her panties but was just long enough to hide them settled against her thighs, but shaped around her ass while her nipples pressed out higher and on the other side.
"I hadn't planned...Thanks." She handed him some folded aluminum foil. "What do I owe you?"
