- TITLE: A Mouthful of Air
AUTHOR: JD
CHAPTER SUMMARY: Because one time at the Lava Lounge is never enough...
Chapter 2: Just Around the Corner
"This is the same place?" An astonished Abby stood in the packed entranceway of the Lava Lounge.
Behind her, Susan and Jing-Mei wedged themselves into the crowd.
"We are never going to get a table," Susan complained. "Where the hell did all these people come from? This was supposed to be my secret little dive! Who are these people?"
Oozing confidence, Jing-Mei replied: "Don't worry about a table. You guys get our drinks, and I'll get us a place to sit."
Abby and Susan exchanged disbelieving glances, shrugged, and meandered through the twenty-somethings to the bar.
"Is she actually going to find a table?" Abby inquired, elbowing some underage toothpick of a girl out of her way.
"I sure as hell hope so. After the day I had, I just want to sit on my ass and get plastered."
When the ladies finally arrived at the bar, Susan was pleasantly surprised to see her favorite bartender hard at work. He looked like an extra in "Point Break," she thought abstractly.
"Hey," he said with a shake of his surfer-blond hair. "Susan, right?"
Susan tried to keep a straight face as the tiny voice behind her whispered: "Free drinks, free drinks, free drinks...."
After shutting Abby up with a brief but laser-deadly glare, Susan turned to Point Break with the sweetest smile she could muster. "Yeah, you remembered!"
"What can I get ya? A couple of sacrificial virgins again?"
"Perfect. But make it three."
As Point Break scuttled off to prepare their drinks, ignoring the ever-louder pleas of other patrons for more beers, Susan and Abby people-watched with the intensity of anthropologists jacked up on espresso.
"I think I pumped that guy's stomach last week," Abby nodded toward one barfly, who was staring desperately at the breasts of the girl sitting on the stool next to him.
"Oh, yeah. He's a winner." Susan spun her neck in the other direction. "How 'bout that chick? What's with the Bon Jovi poodle hair?"
Abby snorted. "And here I thought people didn't own crimping irons anymore."
"Here you go, ladies." Point Break carefully placed the three fishbowls of booze on the bar. "How do you want to settle up?"
Susan and Abby peered at their enormous drinks, then looked into each others' eyes, communicating wordlessly. They both knew what had to be done in a situation like this.
Susan took the initiative, leaning over on the bar, trying her best to give Point Break an eyeful. "I think we're going to need to start a tab," she purred, handing over a credit card.
Her magic worked. "Sure thing," he said, as he took the card from her. "But your next round, that's on the house."
"Aw, thanks so much," she coyly replied.
As they hoisted the drinks and walked away from the bar, Abby deadpanned, "Did you ever know that you're my hero?"
"Don't get all 'Beaches' on me, OK?" Susan laughed. "Now where in the world is Chen?"
Instantly, a glass-shattering whistle went out above the din of the cranked-up jukebox and boisterous crowd. Abby and Susan looked up to the second floor of the bar. A very tall Jing-Mei, apparently standing on a chair, was waving her arms to get their attention.
They "excuse-me'd" their way up the wooden steps, careful not to spill a drop of their gigantic concoctions.
As they arrived at the diminutive table and relieved themselves of their liquid burdens, Abby spoke for the both of them: "Who did you have to do to get a table?"
"No one," Jing-Mei answered, as they all took their seats. "But see those two guys standing up over there, the ones in the suits?" she pointed.
Abby and Susan found themselves looking at a couple of decent-looking but very-much-older men. The seniors waved at the women, smiling.
"Yeah?" Abby asked, afraid to hear what the grandpas had to do with their getting a table.
"Well, they just wanted my phone number."
"You gave them your home phone number?" Susan gaped.
"Of course not." Jing-Mei coolly helped herself to a taste from the oversized straw in her glass. "I gave them Weaver's."
Their eyes bulging, their bodies weightless with pure infantile glee, Abby and Susan collapsed into a fit of giggles.
Straining for oxygen, Abby parroted her earlier remark: "Did you ever know that you're my hero?"
"So fickle!" Susan cried out at Abby, while Jing-Mei just looked incredibly pleased with herself and took another sip.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Check him out," Jing-Mei slurred, the sound system intermittently arresting their conversation.
Their tiny table was now a haven for empty glasses. A graveyard of cherry stems and miniature paper umbrellas littered the floor by their feet. The bar was even more crowded than it had been when they first entered, and Susan and Jing-Mei were attempting to discover the best-looking man in Chicago.
... Was looking for the new thing
And you were the sunshine
In my front line
I was alone
You were just around the corner from me...
Susan slung her heavy head to the side to evaluate Jing-Mei's latest find.
"He's all right. Needs to shave that Gomez Addams mustache, though."
"Cara mia!" Abby bellowed, amusing no one but herself, as Jing-Mei and Susan were already looking around for another specimen to take apart.
"How 'bout him?" Susan gestured doubtfully.
"Who? Unibrow? I don't think so!" Jing-Mei cackled.
"So buy the man some tweezers," Susan shrugged. "He's tall, he's got broad shoulders..."
"And he's got a shrubbery growing out of the bridge of his nose!" Jing-Mei howled.
... and this bottle of Beast is taking me home
I'm cuddling close to blankets and sheets
But you're not alone
You're not discreet
Make sure I know who's taking you home ...
Abby, happily blitzed and oblivious to their cruel candor, stared off into space and wished for just two things: a cigarette, and Carter.
Of course, it eventually dawned on her that Carter would probably not appreciate the fact that she was drinking. Honestly, his earnestness did grate on her nerves occasionally. He seemed committed to her sobriety as if it were the only thing supplying him with the oxygen necessary to survive. Sure, she was touched that he was concerned about her. Hell, she wanted him to be concerned about her. After all, Luka never was. Or if he was, he sure hid it pretty damn well the entire time they were dating.
But sometimes, Abby thought, she just wanted to be left alone. Was there something wrong with that? Besides, this time it was different. She understood Carter's trepidation, of course. He never knew her before AA, didn't know what she'd been like. She was much better now. She could handle it. She knew the warning signs, and if it got too bad, too darkly familiar, she would get herself to a meeting. But here, now, this was how normal people drank: she was out with her friends, letting off steam. She didn't have to be at work the next day, she wasn't driving home. Simply put, she wasn't hurting anyone.
... I know I've got a bad reputation
And it isn't just talk, talk, talk
If I could only give you everything
You know I haven't got ...
"HELLO." Susan's interest was piqued by a new contestant. "I think we have a winner."
"Well, he's tall all right," Jing-Mei approved. "Now if he would just turn around so we could see his face...."
"Who cares about his face? Look at those shoulders, that thick hair..."
"Yeah, baby, c'mon. Turn around. Come to mama."
Abby snapped out of her reverie, intrigued by the bawdy comments tossed around the table, and turned around just in time to see the new prized paragon step into the light.
"Whoops," Susan tried to backtrack, glancing at Abby out of the corner of her eye. "Uh, it must've been the lighting."
Jing-Mei, who wasn't so easily embarrassed, hollered for the gentleman to join them: "Luka! LUKA!" She jumped up so that he could see her, waving with the enthusiasm of a child seeing Mickey Mouse for the first time, nearly knocking every glass off their table.
Abby stared silently as Luka, looking incredibly uncomfortable at the prospect of being spotted by his manifestly drunk female co-workers – and his ex-girlfriend in particular – lumbered up the steps toward their table.
"'Fess up, Kovac," Jing-Mei eyed him suspiciously. "You're following us."
"Actually, I'm.... I'm meeting someone." He avoided looking at Abby, instead staring down at his shoes, his hands stuffed in his pants pockets.
"Well, you should sit with us till she gets here." Jing-Mei teetered, attempting to sit back down in her chair.
Luka, figuring it would be easier to be detained with the Happy Hour Three for a few minutes rather than to argue with an inebriated Chen, looked around for an empty chair. Silently, he borrowed one from an adjacent table and perched somewhat restlessly upon it.
Susan, looking from Luka to Abby then back to Luka, decided she couldn't play mute much longer. "So, is she anyone we know?" she asked, trying to keep some semblance of conversation going.
"No one from work," he mumbled. "Her name's Michelle."
At that, Abby perked up.
"Did she enjoy the Ice Capades?" She laughed quietly.
Susan, undoubtedly the most sober of the three women – which wasn't saying much – silently thanked God that Abby had decided to join the dialogue. "You took a woman to the Ice Capades? Please tell me you're kidding."
Luka's apprehension seemed to melt away at the curiosity of the plastered women. "No," he smiled. "And she had a good time," he added defensively.
"Hmm," Jing-Mei pondered, her eyelids heavy. "Must be an Eastern European thing."
"That or she's a really big fan of people in enormous animal suits gliding around on skates," Abby threw in. "Which should be frightening to anyone, regardless of geography."
Luka leaned back in his chair, relieved that Abby felt comfortable with him joining the threesome. He certainly hadn't counted on seeing her tonight, but he was gratified to be able to talk to her outside of work.
"You're just jealous 'cause I never took you." Luka looked pleased with his comeback, folding his arms on his chest.
"Actually, I was holding out for when the circus came to town," Abby retorted.
Jing-Mei, who had appeared to be wavering in and out of consciousness, suddenly leaped to her feet, her eyes open and fully alert. "Holy crap, I love this song!" Before anyone could stop her, she was grooving to the tune that was saturating the bar, warbling along with Wild Cherry:
"And just when it hit me, somebody turned around and shouted 'PLAY THAT FUNKY MUSIC, WHITE BOY!!!'"
"Please, god, make it stop," Susan uttered hopefully.
"Well, while you all deal with her," Abby indicated Jing-Mei with a toss of her head, "why don't I get us some more drinks? A draft, Luka?"
"Yeah, please." He fished out his wallet, but Abby was already shaking her head and waving her delicate small hands in protest as she walked away, her backpack/purse swinging on her shoulder. He repocketed his wallet and watched Abby stroll down toward the bar, periodically glancing at the door to see if Michelle had arrived.
"SORRY!" Somehow, during her spastic dance, one of Jing-Mei's shoes not only had flown off her foot but had hit someone in the head. A pissed off Northwestern student handed her back the offending projectile. She tried gracefully to put her shoe back on while standing, but only succeeded in toppling to the floor.
Susan cast her eyes at Luka. With a straight face, she calmly announced: "And people wonder why we don't all go out together very often."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He walked up the steps of the front entranceway, weaving his way in and out of the people standing on the porch. He knew his friends were already inside – they'd had to cajole him for a good thirty minutes before he agreed to meet them out for a drink. The past several months had been the worst of his life, and he wasn't sure that being surrounded by a gaggle of cheerful drunks was the best thing for him. He'd spent the past few months adjusting to a new lifestyle: new classes, new apartment, new living arrangements. Mostly a homebody now, he had yet to fully explore his new neighborhood. That's why his pals suggested they all go to this unusual bar called the Lava Lounge, which it turned out was only three long blocks from his new home. After a half hour of hearing them plead, he finally relented.
He trudged over to the bar stools, looking for his buddies over the heads of the other patrons. I'm never going to find them in this place, he thought to himself. Luckily, one of them spotted him and called out to him.
"Brian! BRIAN! Over here, man!"
END NOTES: The chapter title comes from "Life on a Chain" by Pete Yorn, and it's also the first song that plays in the background at the LL. I figured "just around the corner" referred not only to Luka but to surprise guest star Matthew Settle. Next song is "Screaming Infidelities" by Dashboard Confessional. Third song is "Bad Reputation" by Freedy Johnston. And Chen's impromptu sing-along accompanies "Play that Funky Music (White Boy)" by Wild Cherry. The volley of background songs was definitely inspired by the bombardment of '70s easy-listening classics in "Blood, Sugar, Sex, Magic" (got a soft spot in my heart for all those songs, especially "Brandy" by The Looking Glass -- GOD, I'm old). Finally, to all the Chen fans out there: I hope you don't think I'm being mean. We kid because we love – besides, she's a total wild child, and you know it.
