Out of Whack (22 page)

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Authors: Jeff Strand

BOOK: Out of Whack
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       I wanted to applaud, but that would have been inappropriate.

       Mike shook his head in annoyance. “When the slutmobile returns, pretend like nothing happened. I don’t want to encourage her.”

       We engaged in idle chitchat until Travis and Natashia came back to the table a minute later. Travis seemed a bit frazzled, while Natashia had a satisfied look on her face.

       “We’re back,” said Travis unnecessarily. “Look at this, I ripped my shirt on the paper towel dispenser.”

       “How was the air?” asked Mike.

       “Oh, it was fine. Good air. Good, good air.” He took a drink, and flinched as he noticed the lipstick smear he left behind. “I’m looking into becoming a transvestite,” he explained. “Just starting small.”

       Lionel stepped out of the kitchen, wringing his hands nervously. He approached our table. “How are your drinks?”

       We all said that they were fine.

       “Oh, that’s good. I’m so glad you’re enjoying them. I don’t want to cause a commotion, so I’m only talking to the parties that came in around when you did. Did you use our valet service?”

       “Yeah,” said Mike. “Is there a problem?”

       “That all depends. It’s just that the valet service you used may not necessarily have been
our
valet service, if you understand my meaning.”

       “I’m not sure I do.”

       Lionel smiled nervously. “The boy in the red uniform who looked like a valet may not in fact have been what he claimed to be, and if you gave your car to somebody with long, brown hair and a goatee, he stole it.”

       “He stole my mother’s car?” Natashia asked, horrified.

       “Yes,” said Lionel. He had the humble look of a waiter who knew his tip was shot to hell.

       “Are you freakin’ kidding me?” screamed Mike, jumping to his feet and attracting the attention of every person in the restaurant, except for the old guy who was still digging for his dentures. “You stupid used-condom slurpers let them steal the car? What kind of dipped-in-shit establishment is this?”

       “Mike, chill,” said Natashia.

       “Chill? Chill? You’re not the one who’s going to have to listen to your mother screeching like a cow with its bloated udder caught in a taffy puller!” He returned his attention to the waiter. “If you don’t get that goddamn car back in the next five minutes, I’m going to shove a red-hot fire hydrant up your ass and then up the ass of every worker in this place without washing it in-between ass shovings!”

       “He’s really crude,” Travis whispered to me. “I bet when he eats a chocolate rabbit he starts at the butt.”

       “Sir,” began Lionel, “if you would please lower your voice, I assure you we’re doing everything we can to help—”

       “Lower your own pansy voice!” Mike thundered. “I got dressed up in this freakin’ strait-jacket of a suit and drove all this way and acted like the kind of stuck-up rich dickhead that would go to a place like this and ordered shitty food for more than it would cost to breed the goddamn cattle myself and got this fancy-ass wine that tastes like whoever stomped on the grapes had Athlete’s Foot and you didn’t even have goddamn peppercorn ranch salad dressing and my wench girlfriend went and tried to pork some loser outside the goddamn window because she’s a worthless bitch who can’t even aspire to be a bimbo then you told me that the car I borrowed has been stolen by a nutless fake valet and the slut told me to chill and then you stand there with a constipated look on your face while I tell you all about my shitty evening from the part where I got dressed up to the part where the freakin’ car got stolen and then I run out of breath and shut up!”

       Lionel looked at his feet. “I’m sorry you had a disappointing dining experience.”

 

* * *

 

       We stood in the ditch, staring at the station wagon. Every one of the windows had been smashed, and Mike’s ten-dollar bill was taped to the hood.

       “Was the vehicle insured?” the police officer asked.

       “No,” said Natashia. Mike was standing a few feet away, wringing his hands and looking like he wanted to say something objectionable.

       “He’s done this at a few other restaurants,” the officer informed us. “But don’t worry, we’ll catch him. Last week he got the Slappy-Happy Frankfurter Car, and lots of people are hunting for him.”

       As the tow truck began to pull what remained of the car out of the ditch, Natashia patted Travis on the back. “I’m sorry about what happened. I guess I’m just kind of insecure about whether or not Mike really loves me. Him always calling me a mindless wench probably has something to do with it.”

       “That’s okay,” said Travis. “It made me feel desirable.”

       “We’re going to call a cab. You could catch a ride back to your dorm with us, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

       “We’ll find our own way home,” I said. “I guess I’ll go say good-bye to Mike.” I glanced over at him, and saw that he was cursing loudly at the grass. “Or maybe you could say good-bye for us.”

       “I will. Nice meeting you all.”

       As we left the scene of the vandalism, I mentally crossed
Gleefully Disturbed
off my list of things that would add meaning to my life. I’d expected a disaster, but I’d at least expected to get to eat. I wondered how impressed Laura was with my selection of social peers.

       “That was a new experience for me,” said Laura. “And, wow, I was even embarrassed! That takes a lot.”

       “I’m sorry,” I said, then winced and hoped she wouldn’t punch me.

       “Don’t be. We’ll have something to laugh about later.” She stepped out of her high heels and picked them up. “Listen, it’s going to take us more than an hour to walk back home. I don’t mind if you don’t.”

      

      

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-One

“A Completely Irrelevant Chapter”

      

       “Everybody dance!”

       “You put your right foot in, you put your right foot out, you put your right foot in, and you shake it all about, you do the Hokey Pokey and you turn yourself around, that’s what it’s all about.”

       “Left foot!”

       “You put your left foot in, you put your left foot out, you put your left foot in, and you shake it all about, you do the Hokey Pokey and you turn yourself around, that’s what it’s all about.”

       “Third toe on the left foot!”

       “You put your third toe on the left foot in, you put your third toe on the left foot out, you put your third toe on the left foot in, and you shake it all about, you do the Hokey Pokey and you turn yourself around, that’s what it’s all about.”

       “Right edge of the toenail on third toe of the left foot!”

       “You put your right edge of the toenail on the third toe of the left foot in, you put your right edge of the toenail on the third toe of the left foot out, you put your right edge of the toenail on the third toe of the left foot in, and you shake it all about, you do the Hokey Pokey and you turn yourself around, that’s what it’s all about.”

       “Fungus on right edge of the toenail on the third toe of the left foot!”

       “You put your fungus on the right edge of the toenail on the third toe of the left foot in, you put your fungus on the right edge of the toenail on the third toe of the left foot out, you put your fungus on the right edge of the toenail on the third toe of the left foot in, and you shake it all about, you do the Hokey Pokey and you turn yourself around, that’s what it’s all about.”

       “Pancreas!”

       “You put your pancreas in, you put your pancreas out, you put your pancreas in, and you shake it all about, you do the Hokey Pokey and you turn yourself around, that’s what it’s all about.”

       “Now, everyone—drop your togas!”

 

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Friends, Lovers, Or Ships Sinking In The Night?”

      

       During the walk home, I had a moment of sudden realization.

       There we were, walking down the road, being honked at every few minutes by jerks who felt they should inform us that they were mighty motorists while we were lowly pedestrians. The conversation had drifted from the events of the evening to songs we hated to the future of Out of Whack. Travis admitted that he wasn’t all that fond of the scripting process and agreed to turn the writing duties over to me. For some odd reason, he was also very agreeable to not having me act any more. Laura was extremely enthusiastic about the whole venture, and about half an hour into the walk I had my realization.

       I was completely comfortable around her.

       I’m not sure when it happened, but it did. It was a scary idea, not being scared of Laura. I mean, I was still insanely attracted to her, and though I wasn’t planning any time soon to extend an invitation to smear ourselves with peanut butter and roll around on a jelly-covered mattress, I was definitely hoping this would be more than a professional relationship. And yet I could actually speak coherently in her presence.

       Travis seemed genuinely fond of her, too. But, in one of his few sweetie-pie acts, he wasn’t flirting or favoring his pelvis when he walked or “accidentally” dropping credit cards on the ground. He could be fiercely annoying at times (lots of them) (lots and lots of them), but he wasn’t going to try to move in on Laura when he knew how much I wanted her. What a guy.

       Not being experienced in such matters, I couldn’t quite gauge whether or not Laura was interested in me in a romantic way. She certainly wasn’t flirting or favoring her bosom when she walked or “accidentally” dropping prophylactics on the ground. But she also didn’t seem to be using us just to become a part of Out of Whack. If anything, I was getting the impression that she wanted us all to be good friends.

       I supposed I could handle just being friends. She was exceptional friend material—obviously intelligent, and surprisingly cheerful. Had she just been in a bad mood when I spilled beer on her, or was she just in an unusually good mood now? I suspected the former. It seemed to suit her better.

       My first attraction had been physical. Then physical had blended with that “thingie” she had about her. And now even her personality was getting into the Let’s-Drive-Seth-Absolutely-Mad act.

       She was a fun person! I loved talking to her! And I didn’t feel like an incredible lily-livered chickenshit when she was around! What more could I possibly ask?

       Finally we crossed the street and reached the edge of campus. Travis stopped in his tracks and smacked his forehead.

       “Oh, crap! I forgot that I was supposed to meet my friend at the student union! He’s gonna kill me!” He reached out and shook Laura’s hand. “It was really nice meeting you. Set a time when we should get together again and we’ll make Out of Whack work. Oh, man, Hank is really going to throw a fit!” And with that, Travis quickly took off, muttering about how much trouble he was in.

       We continued walking in the direction of her dorm. “So, that’s who I’ll be acting with, huh?” she asked.

       “Yep.”

       “I hope his acting in Out of Whack will be better than the performance we just saw.”

       There wasn’t a whole lot I could do besides nod. While I was certainly grateful to Travis for arranging to leave me alone with Laura, I had to admit that he could’ve been less obvious.

       “So,” Laura began, “it appears that we’ve been left alone in order to give Cupid the chance to whip out the ol’ crossbow and open fire, huh?”

       “Look, I know this seems like a set-up, but really, I didn’t tell Travis to do that, because, you know, that would be...you know, sneaky and disrespectful and, really, I’m not trying to pull anything and, God, I hate it when I babble like an unsocialized imbecile.”

       “You can relax. I wasn’t accusing you of anything.”

       “I wasn’t accusing you of accusing me of anything, I just—”

       “Seth. Quiet.”

       I took a deep breath. “I’m quiet.”

       “Good. So, it’s out in the open that your friend thinks there may be something between us. What’s your opinion on the subject?”

       The comfort I’d been feeling around Laura was immediately flushed down the toilet.

       “Um, I dunno,” I replied, the words sticking in my throat as if they’d been spackled there.

       “No opinion at all?” Laura asked.

       I shrugged.

       No! This was no time to wimp out! If ever there was a time in my life when I needed to be brave and outspoken, this was it! I needed to tell Laura exactly how I felt, and then drop to my knees and pray at the top of my lungs that she felt the same way.

       “Well...” I said.

       Okay, I was one word in the right direction. If I could say one word, then damn it, I could say two!

       “I...” I said.

       Two words! After getting out two words, three words would be no problem whatsoever!

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