That Bastard Billy Norton

I don’t have a boyfriend or another husband and I think I am okay with that. Oprah tells me that I should be, and I really want to believe her, but it is hard watching movies and going to dinner alone. I have not been involved with a man for 3 years, and it has been like 5 years since husband # 5 disappeared with my ex-friend Sarah. Sure, I have slept with some guys, but I have never let them spend the night or given them access to my savings account, so that so does not count, right?

When I met, that hairy, poorly dressed, mullet sporting asshole at table 8, he began hitting on me right away. It rattled me. This just does not happen very often any more.

Years of being standoffish bitch and the local men my age knew to leave me alone and the tourists and businessmen had their eyes on the other younger perkier girls. In fact, leverage is the only reason I had this job. I “met” John the owner at the “ranch” outside town a decade ago when my morals were a little lower and my tits a tad higher. Men may not pay to know me but they will still buy a highball from me.

Anyway’s, Mullet head sat alone at the back of the bar at a tall table for two leering around the room to see who was available. It was not even my table. It Was Sofia’s, but a man twice her age, in a very nice Armani suit, was busy flattering her. I may be jealous of the way her ass looked in that skirt, but I this was a chance for her to make some money to pay off her student loan, so clouded with envy I went over to the table to take his order.The Bastard

I just avoided looking him in the eyes and focused on the note pad. “What can I get you?” I asked.

“Well now that you are here at my table I don’t think I really need anything more… as long as you stay and talk a bit.” He said smoothly.

“I am here to get you a drink not to dance for you. Get on with it guy.”

“Why don’t you look at me Doll, when you talk to me?” he had the nerve to lift my chin and force eye contact. “That’s a lot better. I like your endearing brown eyes. They make me want to leave a generous tip, on the chance you will remember me when we meet again.”

I was dumbstruck. This cocky bastard had some nerve touching me with out my permission. If I was a dancer in Vegas, this would have gotten him dragged out back and touched by Gino or Freddy.

He was not at all attractive and I doubt it was any better in his youth. His long thinning hair begged to be set free and forgotten. His bushy muttonchops would have been best thrown on a barbeque and torched. He dressed like someone who would be changing oil in the morning.

Still it fired a spark through be to be touched by a man that was not paying for my services. His off accent I could not place made me want to smile and his blue eyes left me wanting more. I responded the only way I could respond.

“Get your son of a bitchin hands off me you smelly grease monkey of a man. If I was not a proper lady I would have half the mind to kick your balls up through the top of your skull and fry them up as an appetizer.” I never took my eyes off his. I could not

“Do you greet all of your customers this way or just the ones you know you will fall madly in love with?”

My god I slapped him. Part of me did not want to. a large part, but old habits are tough to break.

That same spark rolled through body that happened when he touched my chin. It was novel, fresh and lifting. I realized how grey my life had become the last 5 years when the shot of crystal blue electricity rumbled through my body when we touched. I think he felt it too. His eyes shimmered after I slapped him.

“I normally by a woman dinner before let her slap me like that, but in your case I am willing to make an exception if you let me by you breakfast tomorrow morning?” He smirked. t is the same smirk that Bruce Willis built a career on. This man was no fucking Bruce Willis. That was for sure. He had nothing I could see that would back up his cock assuredness. Not the good breeding; not the nice suit; Not the GQ beauty; All he had were those blue eyes I could not easily forget.

“I am feeling generous, so I won’t have you thrown out on your ass. What do you want to drink?” My eyes settled back on the pad and I breathed deeply.

“I will have a tequila paralyzer.  My apologies if I crossed the boundaries.” he said genuinely and that made me look into his eyes again. You know to see if he was being truthful. He was. About everything.

I served him his drink and then spent the rest of the night in my section. Sofia served him for the rest of the night. I looked over there to see what he was doing and if he was flirting with Sofia. Sure enough he was. I felt the jealousy rising in my heart. I wanted to take Sofia out back and pull her hair out every time we crossed paths behind the bar. I saw him touch her the way e touched me. I will bet he was using the same lines on her. What was worse is that she seamed to be responding.

Sofia was 26 and was an Italian beauty. She could have had any man in this casino. Yet for some reason she was fixating on the man who had lit me up for a second.  She had to be doing this on purpose. Had I crossed her lately? No, she was just a catty whore that could not stand to see a glimmer of happiness in any other woman. She relished in her youthful beauty by kicking those of us that were trying to remember our 20’s. Oh dear I hated Sofia.

The blood was raging through me. I was angry. I was in lust. I was jealous. I was alive.

Towards the end of the night, I was in back mopping the floor. Sofia was running around clearing tabs. She came into the back beaming and trembling with some sort of anticipation. It made her even more beautiful. It was all I could do to control myself.

“Hey Wendy, you know that guy at table 11 in the jeans drinking paralyzer’s…” she said with a lilt in her voice. Almost sing songy. It was more that I could take and blackness fell over me.

When I came to, I was standing over Sofia, who was laid out on the freshly mopped floor bleeding from the nose. The pretty little button nose that now hopefully was leaning to the left a little and I was holding the mop like a battle axe while screaming, ” What about that guy, you slut, what about that guy with the endearing light blue eyes you fucking selfish whore. What about that guy? You could not stand to see a bit of happiness in any one else so you tried giving him a hand job in the men’s room? What about that guy? Did you tell him not to talk to me because I am really a man whose twig and berries have shrivelled from estrogen treatments? So seriously tell me, what the fuck is it about that guy?”

Sofia was in tears and trying to stem the flow of blood from her nose. It gave her voice the curious effect of someone talking under water. “He gave me this business card and told me to give it to you.”

                                                    William M Norton

                                                    Someone You Should Know

                                                     780 487 6886

It was a strange number I did not recognize. 

“He said to call him if you want to get something to eat tomorrow,” Sofia continued

“Hey Sofia, I am sorry about this little misunderstanding. Do you think you could clean this mess up for me? I have a call I have to make. I will cover you Friday shift for you next week

January 7, 2009. Tags: , , , , , . Uncategorized. 1 comment.