Chapter Eight: Out Tonight
Disclaimer: I do not own RENT.
Note: I realized that Mark or Roger weren't actually in Out Tonight, but I managed to get around that.
"Remind me again why you're dragging two gay men into a strip club," Collins said as he ordered another drink.
"Because I need to know everything about everyone and stalking Roger's fangirl will help me out in my noble quest for knowledge," I explained. Collins snorted. "Well it will! And Roger would get annoyed and emoer if he knew I was doing this, so if you guys come with me, then we can tell Roger that the meeting just ran late." Collins still looked unconvinced. "Oh come on, it's just this once! Besides, Angel's having fun."
It was true. Angel was waving enthusiastically to one of the dancers. "Mimi's on next," she, back in drag, gushed. "I am so excited! I taught her everything she knows, you know."
"I'm not sure how I feel about that," I remarked.
"I am," Collins said, beginning to drool.
Suddenly, there were catcalls and so we looked up at the stage. A girl kicked her leg high in the air and then someone thought to turn the stage light on so we could see properly. Seeing properly is very important. I mean, we totally had to avoid paying twenty dollars to get in here; we'd better be able to see this. The girl, apparently Mimi, smiled and kicked again, holding onto a poll for support.
I wonder how Roger would react to the three of us going to go see his future girlfriend pole-dancing. She proceeded to pole-dance for a bit longer, and then decided to burst into song for some reason. Now, I don't come to strip clubs often (mostly because Maureen cheats on everyone so often that she's become the insanely jealous type), but do people really come to places like the Cat Scratch Club to get an impromptu concert?
"What's the time?" Mimi asked. Why does she want to know that? Couldn't she have just looked at a clock backstage or something if she really wanted to know. Maybe keep a watch on her dressing table? "Well, it's gotta be close to midnight," she answered her own question. I HATE rhetorical questions. With a passion. I mean, they're not so bad if the person who asks them quickly answers them, but if they don't then I usually end up looking like an idiot for not realizing that it was rhetorical and answering it. And why does it matter if it's close to midnight? Is that when her shift ends or something?
She took off her leopard-covering-thinging and did another unbelievably high kick. Why doesn't Roger want to date her again? "My body's talking to me, it says, 'Time for danger.'
Okay, first of all, when your body is talking to you, that means either one of two things. First, it could mean that you're THINKING, but if this girl doesn't know that than she is an idiot. Could possibly explain Roger's reluctance. And Angel would still be her friend, because Angel is the closest thing to a saint in NY. Which is odd, as I'm sure the Church has some sort of an issue with cross-dressing homosexuals.
If Mimi's not quite that stupid, than it probably means that she's schizophrenic. Which would also not be good for someone as emo as Roger. Hm, could Roger have some survival instincts? Will wonders never cease? Anyway, what I want to know is, why are the voices in your head always out to get you? I mean, they're all very malicious and want you to go get yourself or someone else killed. Couldn't just once there be a nice voice that says, 'Oh, don't evict your friends from their decrepit apartment and turn their power off on Christmas Eve'? Maybe there are, and we just don't feel the need to medicate for them, and tack on the name 'Conscience.'
If that is the case, Benny and Maureen are officially the sanest people I know. That is very, very sad.
Twisting down the stairs, Mimi continues, "It says I wanna commit a crime. Wanna be the cause of a fight. I wanna put on a tight skirt and flirt with a stranger."
Oh, God. This is really starting to creep me out. Sounds like she's taking her body's advice and going to bother Roger.
"I've had a knack from way back, at breaking the rules once I learn the game," Mimi said, smacking herself on the ass. Note to self: never play scrabble with Mimi. Maureen's the exact same way, and to this day I refuse to believe that "frindle" is a real word.
"So get up, life's too quick." For what, sitting? Wouldn't your feet get tired after awhile? "I know someplace sick, where this chick'll dance in the flames." So, wait…She's going to be accused of witchcraft and burnt at the stake? Well, she probably wouldn't be tied to the stake, or else that would probably make dancing rather difficult. This girl is officially an odd duck.
"We don't need any money," Mimi claims, but I don't think that really matters. She's getting all these tips from guys and they guys have money to throw away, so clearly it's not an issue. Also, of course she wouldn't need money. Who charges someone to get themselves burned alive? Puritans, maybe. "I always get in for free." Wait, always? She's done this before? WITCH! WITCH! BURN THE WITCH! Oh, wait…Right. Never mind then. Just having a blonde moment.
"You can get in too, if you get in with me. Let's go." Uh, no thanks. I'm staying here for what I'd like to call 'Safety.'
"Out tonight. I have to go out tonight." Great, thanks for telling us. "You wanna play?" No, I already told you, I refuse to play ANYTHING with you, now that you officially revealed to us that you're a big fat cheater. "Let's run away." Hm, hide and seek? If you're one of the people playing and not in you can't cheat, I think. Unless, of course, you move and hide somewhere they already checked. But I suppose then you always run the risk of getting caught doing so. And let me tell you, Roger takes his hide and seek VERY seriously.
"We won't be back before it's New Year's Day." Oh geez, where's she planning on hiding, Brooklyn? I don't have a long enough attention span for that! I suppose I could always stand at a bus stop and watch people. And then film them. But if I'm away for a week, then Roger will surely die of starvation, lack of water, and lack of AZT by the time I get back. And emo-ness. Emo-ness is pretty deadly, too. And being a hermit, he could die of boredom, and-Dear Lord! TOO MANY POSSIBILITIES!
"I will never abandon Roger, you foul temptress!" I say, perhaps a little loudly.
Everyone around me is giving me odd looks and Collins takes that moment to look for loose change under the table, covering his head with my jacket so as to be able to see without all that blinding light from the stage.
Angel just pats me on the back sympathetically and says, "I'm sure you won't."
Mimi must've heard me, but valiantly continues as if she didn't, undeterred. "Take me out tonight. Meow." Wait, now she's part cat? This girl is getting sexier and sex-er, stranger and stranger.
Someone hands her a drink and she takes some guys hat and puts it on (all the while accepting copious tips, mind you) and then, to my shock, just walks off the stage, grabs her coat from Angel, and leaves in the middle of her song.
"Um, can she do that?" I ask.
Angel shrugs. "I don't see why not. It's her show. Besides, it's midnight and they don't pay overtime."
"When I get a wink from the doorman, do you know how lucky you'll be?"
No, Mimi. No, I don't. Why don't you explain to me how a doorman winking at you and probably ogling you all night instead of doing his job and making people pay makes anyone who got in free because they agreed to come with you lucky?
"That you're on line with the feline of Avenue B." Oh, so she wasn't talking about the doorman. But then, why did she even mention him if she wasn't talking about him? I think I'm confused again. Whatever. Mimi's no longer here and now Angel is getting bored and Collins is still under the table and my head hurts, so we might as well stalk Mim-er, head back, too.
When we get outside, I realize that Mimi is indeed very badass, as she CROSSES THE STREET WITHOUT LOOKING BOTH WAYS AND NEARLY GETS RUN OVER!
When I remark upon this, Angel looks dutifully impressed, but Collins snorted.
"What?" I asked defensively.
"Dude, you're a Jewish filmmaker with glasses. What do you know about badass?" he asked rhetorically. I could tell it was a rhetorical question because I wasn't entirely sure how to answer.
"Let's go out tonight." Okay, so either Mimi realizes that we're following her (which, by the way, is impossible because I am an expert at stalking people. Or, at least I WOULD be. If I stalked people. Which I don't. What does Roger know, anyway? He hasn't left the apartment in half a year!) or she's talking to herself again. Typical. All the good ones are crazy.
"I have to go out tonight. You wanna prowl? Be my night owl?" NO, YOU SIC K AND TWISTED FIEND! I will not let you turn me or my companions into your familiar! Maybe Roger, though. I dunno, he'd get out of the apartment for a change, so the benefits could outweigh the costs, there. Plus, she just got, like, 500 bucks, so she could probably pay me for him and then I could hoard the money and pointedly not give it to prodigal friends of ours who fancies himself our landlord. I am in awe of her mad scarf skills, too, so that's another point in her favor. On the other hand, losing Roger would mean no more gay rumors, which would mean my sex appeal would take a nosedive.
"Well, take my hand we're gonna howl! Out tonight." Wait, owls don't howl. I think. OMG, werewolves do, though! So, basically, if Roger so much as holds her hand, then she'll turn him into a flying owl-werewolf! Oh, the humanity! Hm, on the other hand, Ripley would probably pay big bucks for this. Or Buzzline.
"In the evenings I've got to roam," Mimi sang, entering her room. Wow, she was just outside a minute ago. Ah! Mimi can teleport! That's further proof of her sorcery! And VAMPIRES DON'T SLEEP AT NIGHT! AH!!!!!!! What has poor Roger gotten himself into?
"Can't sleep in the city of neon and chrome. Feels too damn much like home when the Spanish babies cry." Or, she could just say 'I can't sleep in New York City because it's loud.' But NOOOO that's not poetic and spell-like enough for little Miss Mimi, now is it? And do you want to know WHY those babies are crying? Probably because their surrounded by WITCHES and EVIIIIIIIIIIIL!
Then Mimi opened up the fire escape and went outside. I know most people are probably wondering how I know what Mimi was doing inside her house when Angel, Collins, and I are all hiding behind a building so Mimi won't notice us and we can hear the end of her song. Well, not to worry, it's not witchcraft, it's Benny's rock. Which could one day cause cancer and kill us, but Roger doesn't care as he won't live long enough to be killed by cancer anyway.
"So let's find a bar, so dark we forget who we are."
"Where all the scars from the nevers and maybes die! Let's go out tonight! I have to go out tonight!" Mimi said, balancing precariously on the railing of the fire escape between her apartment and mine and Roger's. Oh, is she going up there? Yes! She is, now she's climbing the stairs to the apartment. This is gonna be good…
"Out tonight. You're sweet wanna hit the street? Wanna wail at the moon like a cat in heat?"
What the? Mimi? Why is she singing on the fire escape? Oh well, as long as she's not bothering me and my mad guitar-playing skills. Musetta's Waltz: I will have you yet!
Mimi's voice is getting closer, so I reluctantly turn around. Mimi is shout-singing RIGHT OUTSIDE MY WINDOW! And fogging up the glass. "Just take me out tonight."
Just take her out? Where's this coming from? I feel like I might be missing something here? And what about me and my needs? Like my need to be left alone to wallow in my emo-ness, attended to only by Mark who, by all accounts, is the Mrs. Lovett's to my Sweeney Todd. Hm, by that logic, if I ever get around to leaving the apartment I should go around talking to all the homeless people I can find just in case April's not really dead. I mean, Mark's too Jewish to lie, and he said she slit her wrists, but never said that she died!
But that's a topic for another time, as now Mimi is barging into my apartment and singing, "Please take me out tonight!" How polite. My answer is still no.
"Don't forsake me," she says, doing something strange with her hair. Now, while I'm sure she's very encourage by my incredulous stare at her, the truth is, she may be half-naked, but right now I'm more concerned about why she's here and why she can't seem to take a hint. And if Mark ever got that Joanne's number so I can prosecute for her blatant breaking-and-entering.
"Out tonight." What, is that some kind of subliminal message or something? I mean, I can tell she wants something, but she's being so subtle that, so help me, I just can't figure out what it is.
"I'll let you make me." Make her what? I can't sleep with her, I have AIDS and she's a stripper who would probably spread it to innumerous people, so that would hardly be ethical. What I need to do is pull a Collins and find someone hot with AIDS. Not that I'm saying Angel is hot or anything, because I'm straight, but she is damn cute in drag, I'll giver her that. And besides, if she's letting me do something, it's hardly making her.
"Out tonight." Now she's climbing on the table. On MY table. Where I am sitting. With my guitar. This does not look good.
"Tonight." Oh god, she's getting closer. I would move, but I appear to be petrified. Is this chick a Wiccan or something? "Tonight. Tonight." She then pulls out the bag of drugs she reclaimed from me yesterday and shoves it in my face before kissing me and putting the drugs in my hair.
In the bag still, of course, or else I would beat her to death with my guitar for getting my hair addicted to heroin.
Anyway, I should probably be ending the kiss, but she's hot, and half-naked, and nineteen and…Gimme a minute here…
To Be Continued…