Heading up the stairs, best time to whiz now before the judges finish tallying the scorecards. No drama in that fight, it's obvious who won it. My Yukina also wants some snacks so fingers crossed that the line for concessions ain't too long. Seen more fights in the stands than in the ring so far, place is like a nut house. I've seen crap like this on the streets but never in an actual arena. Sure, people throwing garbage into the ring, that happens, but it's like half the audience here is trying out for whatever the American equivalent of the low level Yakuzas are.
Alright, line to the can, a few guys seem to have the same idea I had. C'mon I don't want to miss the co-main. Heh, only during a boxing match will the men's room have a longer line. C'mon get a move on! This black guy with a thick beard and a New York Yankees jersey with the number 51 on it shouts "C'mon y'all, if you shaking more than twice you ain't pissing, you be beating the meat!" I laugh with a bunch of the other dudes in line, and we start moving. Just got inside, waiting for a stall to free up, feel self-conscious about ripping ass around people. A stall opens up, and here we go.
Finishing my business, I get to the sink and start washing my hands. Suddenly, this skinny white guy with surfer hair and a backwards grey baseball cap shows up with…a giant cardboard cutout of Arturo Gatti's head. He starts shouting in English "You know what time it is?! It's Artie time!" The same bearded black guy from before stares at him and says "What the fuck?" The guy with the cardboard cutout, drunker then Chu from the dark tournament, suddenly shouts "Hey check my aim!" He drops the cutout on the nasty floor, starts unbuckling his belt, and points at an occupied urinal. A skinny middle-aged Latino-looking guy speaks in this accented English "Oh hell no," and quickly zips up and gets out the way. The drunk guy pulls his jeans down, showing off his half-soft dick, and starts pissing from like a meter and a half away from the urinal, basically pissing on the floor. I speak "It's like a madhouse here." The Latino guy, now at the sink next to me, says "Couldn't they have this fight in New York or something?!"
$30 for a spicy fried chicken cutlet platter, a water bottle, and a tiny ass shot of Cuervo tequila?! What the hell?! The prices are ridiculous. I take a sip from my plastic cup with like two centimeters of tequila in it, balancing the cardboard plate for the chicken cutlets in my left hand, the water bottle stuffed in my right jean pocket. Getting back into the stairway, I look down and what the hell now? This skinny tall black guy with very short hair, wearing a sleeveless purple shirt and blue jeans, is flailing his arms around and yelling at everyone around him. He shouts in English "Y'all bitch-made, c'mon, you want these hands?! Pussy-ass bitches!"
An old white guy, I think he is an usher or security guard or something, comes up to him and the dumbass just shoves the old guy down the stairs. I step back and four beefy security guards, three black and one white, swarm the moron and get him restrained. One of the black security guards then breaks away and goes over to check on the old usher, and the other three guards haul the dumbass away. He looks at me and shouts "What?! You wanna rumble?! Didn't think so, bitch!" Hey, I could literally cut your head off with a sword made of my spirit energy, but I'm not dropping $30 of concession food and tequila to compare dick sizes. They haul the guy away, a few people cheer and clap, and I look at the row he was shouting at and…I think that's…yep, that's the black couple from before that somehow walked into our hotel room when I was fucking Yukina.
The lady notices me and covers her mouth, laughing. The guy says "Hey, lively day, huh? Did you complain to the front desk? They gave us a free bottle of champagne after I did, just a heads up." Hmm, I'll keep that in mind. I say "Thanks for the heads up. What was that all about?" The lady answers "No idea, he just starts cussing at everyone and asking for a fight." I nod and say "Well, I gotta get back to the wife. Here's hoping we get better entertainment in the ring." The guy laughs and says "I hear ya, have a good one." I turn and head down the steps, looks like our section is filling up a bit. Gotta remember to bitch at the front desk later. A free bottle of bubbly sounds pretty good.
Getting back to my seat, I hand Yukina her spicy chicken and water bottle. She says "Thanks, we saw you upstairs, what happened?" "Just another drunk moron," I reply. This blonde white dude with facial stubble and a green cap that says 'John Deere' with a yellow deer logo on it, sitting to the left of Shizuru, says in this English accent that I think is from the south based on the movies I watched "Hope he's happy with himself. Genius about to get ten years in prison at least. Felony assault." He's dressed in a brown t-shirt and jeans, and he's got a round white flat can of this chewing tobacco on his lap. Says 'Copenhagen Snuff'.
He asks "Hey, where y'all from?" Shizuru answers in English "Tokyo, Japan, on vacation. My smartass brother here dragged us over here for this show." The guy turns to me and says "Ha, well it's just part of the charm here. I came over from Tennessee, out in Knoxville, for this one." I say "There was a guy in the bathroom, with an Arturo Gatti giant head cutout, that showed off how he could pee into a urinal from like two meters away. Well, tried to, pissed all over the place." The guy from Tennessee laughs and says "Well, this here place is the epicenter of the biggest morons on the eastern American seaboard, which puts it in the running for the epicenter of the biggest morons on the whole damn planet. You got all the stupid drunk people from South Jersey, the stupid drunk people from New York City, and people from Philadelphia, which makes this place almost as much of a dipshit magnet as New Orleans."
I take a sip from my tequila as the guy motions the tin at us and asks "Want some snuff? Chewing tobacco." I wave him off as Shizuru stares at the tin for a while, and then says "Yeah, sure, thanks." She scoops some out with her fingers and packs it in her left cheek. The guy does the same for himself, and then says "If this y'all first time in America, believe me that most of it ain't like this. I recommend Nashville or Atlanta or Dallas or even Boston if you want someplace more normal. People only come to Atlantic City to watch a show, get blind-drunk and high as a Georgia pine, or catch the clap."
Final bell rings at the end of the tenth round, Mickey Ward and Arturo Gatti hug in the ring, the arena shoots fireworks from the ceiling, and pretty much everyone is standing up. Bro is cheering his head off and Yusuke is kinda pissed because he suddenly became a fan of the Irish guy two rounds into the match. I'm clapping, a bit out of politeness, but I gotta admit, that was pretty fun as far as boxing fights go, not too much of that hugging crap that I see whenever Kazuma orders a PPV for a supposed 'big action fight'. The Italian guy, Gatti, yea he pretty much won it. Kazuma says "I think I heard that Ward's going to retire after this one. Took too much damage over his career." Yusuke says "Hey Kuwabara, thanks for the tickets, seriously. Not going to forget something like this." "Hey, don't mention it," Kazuma replies.
They announce the scorecards and, yep, Gatti won, to no one's surprise. Half the arena starts getting out while Kazuma says "Hey, I wanna hear the post-fight interview." We wait for the interview to finish so Kazuma won't bitch about it, turns out the Italian guy broke his hand and kept going anyway. Not bad, pretty fun match actually. And yep, the Irish guy confirmed he's retiring. Kazuma and Yusuke look like they just saw something special, like the World Series or the World Cup or something. Alright, the crowd is thinning out, just enough so we can move on without some jackass singling us out for some bonus rounds. I tell the American guy "Thanks for the snuff, appreciate it." He says "Yeah, no problem, have a safe vacation. Enjoy the rest of your stay, and try not to get arrested, ha!" He heads on ahead, as I prepare to find a trashcan to deal with…wait…I got an idea.
I say "Hey bro, you still got that plastic tequila cup?" He reaches under his seat and says "Yeah, don't worry, I'm going to throw it out, I'm not a slob." "Can I borrow it for a second?" He hands it over to me, and I spit my mushed gob of what used to be chewing tobacco into it. I hand it back to him and say "Thanks bro." Keiko speaks "Shizuru, that's really disgusting." Yea, well, don't really care, my cheek was getting really tired having that stuck there for so long.
Kurama and Yusuke just laugh at my bro, and I turn and take the lead to start merging with the crowd trying to get out. Kurama, behind me, speaks "Perhaps we return to 'Havana Nights' to make use of their dance floor? I find my legs needing some exercise." Kazuma says "Uh, sure, yeah, no problem." I hear Yukina groan for some reason, as Kurama says "Excellent, and I recall that drinks are still on you for today." And now Kazuma is groaning as well.
Finally outside, so I can have a normal cigarette. Dark as hell, think we around midnight now. I reach into my capri shorts and pull out my pack of Seven Stars cigarettes, push a unit out, and put my pack away, hunting for my lighter. Finding it and getting my cigarette lit, I look at Kazuma and Yusuke and ask "What? Want?" "Yeah, sure," Kazuma says, while Yusuke waves me off. I bring the pack back out and fish out a cigarette for Kazuma, lighting it. Exhaling, we watch two shirtless morons, both white, one with a short beard and a grey baseball cap, brawling by the boardwalk pathway that leads to the needle and broken glass beach. And we're not even impressed or surprised at this point.
Yusuke suddenly says "Hey Keiko, alright if we take a rain check on this? I wanna get something from the pharmacy here, having a headache." She yawns and says "Sure, I'm starting to feel the jet lag." She turns toward us and says "Catch you all tomorrow, have fun!" "Peace," Yusuke says, as Kurama says "Take care." The four of us then turn toward the Hacienda Casino and start walking toward it, as two cops arrest the idiots that were fighting just now.
Done with our smokes, the four of us walk though this indoor mall and get to the restaurant we were at earlier. I take the lead and say "Four, for the bar and the dance hall." The dance floor looking half-full, sounds like they are playing South American or Caribbean Spanish music. This blonde middle-aged white woman with glasses says in English "Cover charge is $15 each." Yeah, I feel better about stealing those cocktails with Kurama now. I turn to Kazuma, and he says "Don't look at me, I promised to cover food and drink for the day, that's it." He pulls out $30 and pays for himself and Yukina. I groan and pay for myself, with Kurama following suit afterwards.
Passing by the piers and this place called the 'Tombstone Casino', some American cowboy themed casino and hotel joint, we pass by those weird cart pushers and a frozen cocktail shop on the left. Two black women, one of them kinda fat, wearing short skirts and high heels, stand around eyeballing people. Suddenly, the fatter one grabs my left arm and says in English "Want to have sex?" What the fuck?! Keiko suddenly is shoving me and pushing me as hard as she can, while the skinnier one shouts "Ah c'mon!"
Getting within many meters away from them, Keiko asks "Did I hear that correctly?" I say "The prostitutes here are like piranhas, hell. Never saw shit like that when we walked through Kabukicho. Kuwabara is going to laugh his ass off when he hears this." Keiko yells "Well that wasn't funny. Was she upset that I didn't agree to a threesome or foursome or something?! Ugh, I feel creeped out. What kind of crazy place did Kazuma drag us into?!" I reply "It's like a horny, drunken, carnival here, with extra bums." She elbows me in the ribs and growls at me, and I say nothing and keep walking.
"Hey Yusuke, you sure you know where we are going?" Keiko asks, maybe starting to catch on as to what kind of pharmacy I have in mind. We pass Pacific Avenue and keep going, the place around us looking more and more grimy, like I'm in a Wu-Tang Clan music video. Keiko suddenly sighs and says "You're looking for a drug dealer to get marijuana, right?" "Sharp as an acupuncture needle, Keiko," I say, trying to hide my shit-eating grin. She says "Alright, if police come over and arrest you, I will say I have no idea who you are." Well that's freaking nice of her.
We walk along Artic Avenue, watching a couple of skinny crackheads, one black, one I can't tell if either white or Latino, they're stopped in front of a car and are trying to clean the windshield while this elderly black guy driving the car keeps the windshield wipers on and is yelling at the crackheads to fuck off. I see a tanned dude in a sleeveless grey shirt, jeans, and a Philadelphia Phillies baseball cap, looking suspicious enough in front of a barbershop, keeping his hands in his pockets and shooting looks at every direction. Got long hair and a Jesus beard, looks either Medierreanean, Arabic, or Mexican or something like that. We cross the middle of the street, and I look behind and see Keiko rolling her eyes.
As we walk up to the guy, the shady fuck takes his hands out of his pockets and starts rubbing his palms, saying in hushed English "What's up, you looking for shit I got what you need, Mozzarella here will hook you up." This drug dealer's street name is Mozzarella? The fuck? I ask street Jesus "Yea, what you got for me? How much?" He speaks "Yo I got the fine candy here, twenty dollars a rock B, you feel me?" Rock candy weed? Heard about that, not really looking for edibles but hey, why not? "How big the rocks?" I ask. Street cheese Jesus says "Fucking boulders like from Indiana Jones, B." Holy shit, Americans are hella generous. Twenty bucks huh? I ask "Is it the Buddha shit?"
Mozzarella looks at me funny and asks "Buddha shit? Fuck is that, you a cop?" I ask "Wait a minute, you ain't talking about edibles, ain't ya?" I hear Keiko mutter in Japanese "Please let the next stray bullet hit me in the head." Mozzarella speaks "Huh? Oh shit, you be talking about that Buddha bud. Nah, I be talking about them crack rocks, what you want weed I got weed too. I got all the shit you need." I try to process what the hell just happened. Controlling myself, I say "Hey buddy, word of advice. If you see two obvious tourists walking up to you looking to score some drugs, start off with assuming they want weed first, maybe molly or shit like that, then move on to crack if they want some hard shit. Actually, offer crack as the last thing on the menu." Mozzarella scratches his neck, jerks his head left and right, and says "I feel you, I feel you. I got some good shit here, ten bucks a gram."
I take a look to make sure I don't see any cops, nah coast is clear, and say "Can I see the shit? Making sure they ain't all seeds." "I feel you, here check this shit out, look don't touch, like it's a lap dance, primo shit, Mozzarella delivers." He pulls out a tiny plastic baggy thing, like the size of a walnut. I lean over, inspect it, and, yeah, good enough. He yanks the bag away, I hand him a ten dollar bill, he looks left and right, and hands me the weed. Quickly stuffing the weed in my pocket, I hear Keiko mutter in Japanese "Some kill me now." I ask "Know where I can get some rolling paper?" Street Jesus says "Down on Atlantic, two blocks to the right, bodega next to the sex shop with that law office. You'll know it when you see it. Say, fuck y'all from?"
Keiko looks like she's about to die, while I say "Tokyo man. Fucking nightmare to get decent weed over there. Easier to get crystal meth, as stupid as that sounds." The guy laughs and says "Yeah I ain't touching that meth shit, that shit will fuck you up." I ask "Hey, mind if I take a picture together?" Street Jesus raises an eyebrow at me and I say "I ain't a cop. If I was a cop I gotta say if I'm a cop. I checked online." Okay I made that last part up. Mozzarella looks at me like I just told him how to turn water into wine, and he says "Oh shit, I heard about rumors about that. Alright, sure, repeat customer, yeah? Let your friends know, they need shit, they go to Mozzarella." Keiko, looking like she would rather go get dental surgery, rolls her eyes and takes out my camera from her purse. I put my right arm around Mozzarella's shoulders, and she aims the camera. Click.
Standing by this closed Jamaican chicken shop on Pacific Avenue, I carefully put the finishing touches on the Urameshi joint. Keiko mutters "This has got to be the most ridiculous thing you have dragged me into. Yeah Yusuke, more ridiculous than anything to do with any demons or angry psychics." I wedge the pièce de resistance between my lips, and pull out my lighter. Yeah, I can tell it's going to be skunk weed, but screw it. Better here than risking five years in Tokyo, fucking ridiculous. I'd probably get less jail time if I get caught snorting meth in Japan. Lighting my joint, I take a drag, and…wait…oh yeah, that's the good stuff.
"Smells like a dying skunk," Keiko groans, waving the smoke away. I say "Hey, keep an eye out for cops. Though they'd probably be more busy hauling in the drunk morons on the boardwalk." We walk past a bum sleeping on the sidewalk, and I catch a crackhead, a skinny middle-aged guy with a beard, in a ragged green sweater and blue shorts, either Arabic or Latino or something, can't tell in the dark, staring at me and following me from behind, like he's being lured out of a cave with a piece of meat. I turn to him and say "Easier fights on the next block, buddy." The guy freaks out and starts running the other direction. I turn to Keiko and say "Want a puff? Not many times you'll get to try this." She rolls her eyes and says "Fine, why not? My clothes already smell like it."
Drinking more alcohol will either be a horrific mistake or a genius stratagem, that is the spectrum that I am currently facing. Was expecting something more familiar such as Michael Jackson, but I can adapt to the current musical theme, which appears to be Caribbean Latin jazz or rock or something along those lines. Shizuru is dancing somewhat by my side, while Kuwabara and Yukina mill about at the bar, having danced their fill roughly an hour ago. Appears they did not expect myself and Shizuru to still have this much endurance after the ridiculously long flight. Patience Kuwabara, you will have all the time this vacation to make love to your wife. I, meanwhile, seek my own amusement.
"Si aqui me quiero, I like it like that! I want you like that, I like it like that! I got soul, I got soul!"
The husband and wife again dart looks at us on the dance floor, appearing rather annoyed. I ignore them and return to dancing wordlessly with this Western European seeming woman in a red cocktail dress and long black hair, wearing these rather high red heels and sporting a rather garish amount of silicone in her breasts and whatever material her plastic surgeons implanted in her lips. Alcohol does wonders for lowering one's standards.
She suddenly asks over the music in this accented English that I cannot quite discern "Hey, where ya staying at?" I answer, still dancing "The Principate." Yes, the most expensive hotel on the boardwalk. She speaks "Same here, ya from around here?" I answer "Tokyo." "Montréal. Ya here with someone?" I turn to Shizuru, who eyeballs the Canadian woman, curls her lips as if satisfied, and nods. Turning back to the Canadian woman, I say "She won't mind the company." Not like Shizuru and I are actually dating, just occasional casual sex when we find our dry spells needing to end.
The idea intrigues her, and she says "Interesting. Name's Teresa, wanna party after this at your place?" If she is expecting an experimental lesbian tryst with Shizuru, she will be rather disappointed. Knowing her, Shizuru will have no interest in actually touching the Canadian down below, and prefer to either take turns or engage in anything that does not result in her making contact with the Canadian tourist. I answer "Sure, wish to leave after this song?" "Yeah," she says, as Shizuru maneuvers herself closer to me. Well, well, well, just arranged my first three-way as Shuichi Minamino. Yoko had a bit more experience in the endeavor, was the last time with a male Leviathan demon and a female stag demon? I believe so, the Leviathan demon's slippery arse was a rather unique sensation…I feel Shizuru nudge me and pull me out of an old memory.
She asks "After this song?" I reply "Yes, indeed." Teresa notices her and asks "That's her?" Shizuru answers "Yep, going after this song?" "Yeah," she replies. Rather asinine conversations one has while drunk and planning a threesome. I notice Kuwabara and Yukina glaring at the three of us, not sure if out of confusion or discomfort.
Having my left arm around Shizuru and my right arm around the random tourist from Montreal, the three of us approach Kuwabara and Yukina at the bar. I speak in English "We are heading to our hotel room, so you may leave if you desire." "Ah, these friends of yours?!" Teresa speaks, slightly slurring her words. Shizuru tries to whisper into my ear, I think, but instead yells "Looking forward to see you split that ass of hers open like a watermelon!" "What the hell, Shizuru, I did not need to hear that!" Kuwabara shouts out as the bartender, a middle-aged African man with thin-framed glasses wearing a grey vest, a white undershirt, and grey slacks, snickers to himself at the drunken display before him.
Realizing that we risk further embarrassment for Kuwabara and Yukina, the three of us motion our way toward the exit. I hear from within earshot "Goddamn, that is one lucky Casanova over there. To be the beef in that sandwich…" Kuwabara suddenly shouts "Hey asshole, that's my sister he's with!" "Oh shit!"
Teresa is drunkenly giggling as I fumble with my hotel keycard still in my wallet. There we…go…open, and I let the two ladies inside, feeling as if I am a Roman general enjoying my Triumphal parade. I reach for the 'Do Not Disturb' placard and fix it to the exterior doorknob. Closing the door and sealing it on a deadbolt, I turn around and watch Teresa remove something from her brown and beige Louise Vuitton purse. She places the purse on our hotel room desk and removes…a glass vial? Shizuru, who has already removed her top, revealing her lacy brown bra, is glaring at the vial with equal confusion.
Teresa unseals the vial and pours this white…powdery…substance on the black mahogany desk. Is…that…Shizuru mutters in Japanese "Is…that what I think that is?" Teresa pulls her wallet out of her purse and removes a silver card that has the word 'Québec' and a blue and white flag on the top left, above her photo…I believe that is her Québécois drivers license. In case we had any prior illusions, she uses her drivers license to separate the white powder into three thin lines. Yes, that is indeed cocaine. So this is what she referred to when she asked if we can 'party'.
I turn to Shizuru, who is staring uneasily at Teresa as she rolls a purple $10 Canadian note into a tube, inserts said tube into her left nostril, and snorts the rightmost line of cocaine. Exhaling, appearing alarmingly rejuvenated, she scratches her left nostril and speaks "Here." I turn to Shizuru awkwardly, not sure how to proceed with this. Yoko never had any experience with these kinds of illicit substances before.
Oh well, what is the worst that could happen? How does the saying go? When in Rome, do as the Romans do? I accept the rolled $10 Canadian note, clean the tip that went into her nostril with a hotel tissue, and lean forward over the…cocaine.
Oh God I feel so full, don't stop Kazuma, keep thrusting your hips into me, don't stop. Oh I need this, waited too long thanks to that stupid boxing show and the stupid hotel keycards and those stupid people on the balcony and stupid Kurama wanting to go dancing. Don't think about them, just, oh God yes Kazuma, I feel the tip of your dick hitting the good spot. I bounce against him on the bed, press my arms against his chest for support, watch the sweat grow on his forehead, squatted on him, riding him, trying to match his rhythm. His whole head is still aside from his eyes going up and down, tracking my bounces. Don't cum yet, I'm so so close oh I need this so badly.
"Goddamnit you Canadian bitch what the hell you do that for?!" I hear Shizuru yell from the hallway. I hear someone running outside in the hallway. Kazuma suddenly shows movement with his lips and he grunts "What…did you…hear that?" "No, it was just your imagination, I'm about to cum soon don't pay attention to the outside," I grunt and plead, please, whatever nonsense they have they can sort out themselves. I hear Kurama shout from the hallway "Damn this, she's getting into the elevator!" Now I hear two people running outside. I glare angrily at Kazuma and ride his cock more urgently, take his attention off any and all distractions.
Someone's banging on our door. Ignore them. IGNORE THEM! Shizuru shouts "Brother open this freaking door up now, it's a serious emergency!" No, don't Kazuma. DON'T! He grits his teeth and shakes his head. I scream "FUCK! HELL, WHY?! This is completely crazy! Why is this happening to us?!" Kazuma mutters "I am so, so sorry. I take care of this, and tomorrow it will be just the two of us. Promise." "I don't want that tomorrow, I want this now!" I whine, climbing off him, slamming my fist on the bed in anger. I crawl under the sheets as my husband reaches for his boxers, his wet erect dick now starting to lose its stiffness. I am so going to kill Shizuru.
Shizuru bangs on the doors again, and Kazuma shouts "I'm coming over, calm down!" He opens the door and shouts "What the hell?! Why are you two naked?!" Shizuru suddenly runs over to our bed, naked, trying to cover her vagina and her left breast with her hands, shouting "Sorry, sorry!" She's grabbing the sheets?! Oh no, no, no! I reach over and sting her right hand with my icy touch. She yells "What the hell Yukina?! That hurt!" I angrily shout "Good! I'm glad!"
Kurama suddenly shouts "There are towels in the bathroom!" I hear him run into the bathroom as Shizuru follows quickly. They soon get out, using the bath towels to cover themselves, and I watch Kazuma speak "What the hell is that on your noses?! Is…the hell?! You snorted coke or something?!" Shizuru and Kurama do not say anything. Kazuma shouts "ARE YOU TWO SERIOUS?! You two are supposed to be the most responsible of the six of us! Try explaining how the hell this happened!" Shizuru growls "That bitch Teresa threw our clothes out the window!"
Kurama suddenly yells "She likely would not have done so had you not kicked her in the crotch!" Shizuru shouts "She said she thought I was a tranny! I think that justifies a punt to the bean!" "Oh my God, both of you, shut the hell up! I'm going to call the hotel and they will figure something out! Just be quiet alright! Argh, for Yusuke's and Keiko's sake, they better be dealing with a lot less bullshit then this."
Bread. Cold cuts. Cheese. Tomato sauce. It's dark outside and Yusuke and I are just following the scent coming from this Italian sandwich store 'Vinnie's Italian Sub Shop'. Since 1975. "Shit they're closed," Yusuke mutters, having recently disposed of the marijuana cigarette thing, which I…may or may not have helped him with…in the said act of disposing. As in smoking…it. Oh I am so hungry right now. Why are they closed? Someone is still inside, the lights are still on. Why? Yusuke presses his face on the glass, I think he is trying to either get the guy's attention or read the menu. I press my face on the glass next to him. Oh…that looks so good. Veal parmigiana sub. Philly cheesesteak sub. Sweet and spicy sausage sub. Tuna sub. I want sub.
The guy in the restaurant store, a very fat European man with black hair peppered with spots of gray, watching something on a small tv set held up by a wooden chair, he suddenly notices us and tries shooing us away. Yusuke just shakes his head, and I do the same. We will get those sandwiches. He starts pointing at his watch, and then at the sky. I am ready to pay ten thousand yen for one of those sandwiches.
The guy gives up and stands up, walking toward us two drooling on the window glass. He looks a lot like Big Pussy from the American television show 'The Sopranos', just with a little facial hair. If he is that fat, the sandwiches must be really good then. The guy comes close enough and shouts like a character from that tv show "You can't fucking read?! It's closed, come back tomorrow in the morning." Yusuke pleads "C'mon man, we are freaking starving, and the lights are still on over there." He glares at us and asks "Ya fucking stoned or something? C'mon, get the fuck out of here." Yusuke says "C'mon, we'll pay extra or something!"
The guy, whom I will for now and forever more assume to be Vinnie, speaks "Marone! Fuck it, whatever, but make it fucking quick alright? I was supposed to be back home like five hours ago." Yes! He unlocks the door and we walk in. Vinnie locks the door behind us and says "One moment, you're lucky I didn't put everything away yet." He walks toward and behind the counter and says "Just for your information, no hot food. That means no hot roast beef, no parm, no cheesesteak, just get the cold cuts or the tuna or something and get out. I got a turtle back home I need to feed."
I nudge Yusuke and say "You go first." He scans the menu, as Vinnie rolls his eyes and looks like he is regretting that he didn't call the police on us. Yusuke suddenly says "I'll get the 'Frankie Valli' sub." I check the ingredients on the menu. Genoa salami, hot capicola, mortadella, provolone cheese. Vinnie pulls a delicious smelling long and fat submarine bread or however it is called, and slices it open and almost completely in half with a knife. He asks "Mayo or mustard?" Yusuke suddenly tilts his head and asks "What's this giardiniera thing?"
Vinnie looks down and mutters "Christ give me strength." He turns back to Yusuke and says "Pickled vegetables and peppers. Spicy. You want or not? Costs two bucks extra." "How spicy?" "You are really pissing me off, ya know that?" "Fuck it, fine, I'll get it." Vinnie removes the plastic covering for a jar of pickled peppers, carrots, celery, and olives. He removes a large meat tube of what I am assuming is one of the three Italian meats and begins slicing them with this steel machine.
Finishing Yusuke's sandwich, he says "Grab a soda and some saltwater taffy from that basket over there. Comes with the sub." He turns to me and asks "And you, miss?" I quickly say "I will have the 'Luca Brasi' sub. The tuna salad sub, and I want it with muffuletta olive spread." Vinnie nods and says "Underrated combination. Alright, you got it." As he cuts open another large submarine bread, he asks "You were at the fights?" I answer "Yes, we actually had really good seats. Did you see an Asian man with orange hair in the stands?" Vinnie reaches for a scooping spoon and removes the plastic covering for the tuna salad, asking "What, the guy with the Elvis hair? He was with you?"
Yusuke speaks "Yeah, it was his idea. Hell of a fight." Vinnie plops balls of tuna salad on my sandwich and says "Oh yeah, that Irish kid from Boston or wherever, that's a guy that can't be broken. Happy he got to hang the gloves up on his own schedule. Damn good trilogy. Wanted to get tickets but they sold out so damn quick. You had some really nice seats. Say, where you from?" I answer "Tokyo, Japan. We're on vacation." He replies, smoothing the tuna balls on the bread with the back of the scooper "Well, you got really good English I have to say. You staying at one of those casinos?" Yusuke answers "Yeah, the Principate." Vinnie tilts his head and says "At least it's one of the better ones. Sorry kids, but I guess you can tell this city is mostly a shithole."
Yusuke laughs and says "At least it didn't take long to find decent weed. But seriously, I never seen so many bums before. And the beach, what the hell?" Vinnie answers "You want to gamble or see a show or a fight, you go here. You want real beaches or less bums or something other than tattoo parlors on the boardwalk, check out the other parts of the Jersey Shore. Like Ocean City or Cape May. How long you staying here?" I answer "Er…a week?" Vinnie laughs and says "Here's my suggestion. Get a rental car and take a road trip to New York City or Washington D.C. They are like a two, three hour drive each way. Or just check out the other places on the Shore. Philly is like an hour away. Seriously, I was reading the news the other day. Some dumb fuck turned his hotel room into a meth lab and started a chemical fire." Yusuke laughs, holding the paper bag with his wrapped-up sandwich, and says "Oh we already seen enough dumb fucks just today alone. I believe you."
Sitting on a bench on the boardwalk, across from the Principate Casino and Hotel, I unwrap my submarine sandwich and take a bite out of it…oh that is so good. I unscrew the cap on my bottle of Sprite and sip from it, before taking another bite out of the sandwich…ooo I got a big cluster of olives now. Yusuke, seated on my left, my purse between us, seems to be enjoying his sandwich too, about a quarter of the way through it. He says "Want a bite? It's a bit on the spicy side, that guy wasn't lying about the peppers." I lean over and take a bite…yeah that is quite spicy. I swallow my bite and quickly reach for my bottle of Sprite again, taking a big gulp from it.
Yusuke says "Gotta admit, this is probably the best thing I ever took to cure the munchies." In my case, this would be the first thing I ever took. I felt like I was ready to consume an entire pig. Or a swordfish. Swordfish would be nice. I say "Yusuke, we should try to get swordfish tomorrow." "Ha, sure," he says, as I finish a quarter of my tuna sub.
Suddenly, I notice Yusuke staring at someone or something in front of the casino. I turn my attention…and I see him too. Yusuke speaks "Either Mozzarella added something extra to the weed, or I think I see that bum from the blackjack game…wearing Kurama's clothes…jerking off with a bra in his hands." I speak "No, I am seeing the very same thing too. I…have so many questions." Yusuke suddenly puts his sandwich on his lap and reaches into my purse. He takes his camera out. I shout in Japanese "No, you are not taking a picture of the masturbating bum!"
AN: Some of these things may, or may not, have actually happened. In fact, many of these things may, or may not, have actually happened. A few of these things may, or may not, have actually happened in New Orleans, which may, or may not, be basically Atlantic City with less casinos, much better food, slightly fewer bums, and a lot more rats.
Hope you all enjoyed the story!