The Slobster Debacles---Entry One

I've witnessed scenes like it so many times, I can almost count down the seconds before it starts.

The stupidity.

And I end up cursing myself for being right one more time.

The Rabid Dog languishes behind a Te-Amo and under the G-train, and unless you're a narc or a hopeless degenerate in search of summarily executing whatever pale remnants of hope remain in your heart. . .you have no business even looking at it.

And so of course, there I was, sitting in there on the eve of my 31st year, sipping harsh German beer and doing my countdown.

Off to my left, the Good Doctor was eyeing a plump blond dressed in sweatpants and a white Care Bears shirt. Jimmy stood to my right, looking fidgety, his eyes turgid and lost in a few million different elsewheres.

Then the door swung open fast and hard, and I saw this kid. He just stood there a minute and sneered. All of maybe 19, short Ceasared-out hair, olive complected. And a nimbus of drunkdom surrounded the brute.

He walked up to the bar, his footsteps loud, clunky, measured.

"Vodka and tonic," he grumbled. The accent was thick and hard to pin down precisely. Definitely Eastern European.

Behind the bar, the curvaceous young Hungarian girl obliged with a hurried silence. She had dealt with him before - tension riddled her eyes and movements. Had he fucked her, only to kick her into the street without so much as a mumbled goodbye? Had he hit her?

The questions burned like creeping tetanus.

The kid took a swig and it started.

"Fucking Puerto Ricans. Hate 'em, hate 'em all. They jumped me out there, but I beat them back."

He shook a clenched fist before continuing. "Don't fuck with Albanians. Not my family. My family's crazy. Into all kindsa shit."

The hefty Care Bears chick turned around, shot him a hard look. "I'm half Puerto-Rican," she said. "Don't be fuckin' goin' there."

"Oh hey, I meant no disrespect. I have Puerto Rican friends. It's the niggers I hate."

She only got madder. "Hey my boyfriend is black you asshole!"

Something very uncomfortable had risen up in this room and bathed everyone and everything in it. I clutched my warming beer viciously.

From off to the shadowy right of the bar, a tall bald man peeled himself off one of the lounge seats and rushed over.

"Shut up and get out." The owner evidently. He pointed at the kid. More words followed in frenzied Albanian.

The kid didn't move and didn't much care, at least not outwardly.

"Leave? Leave? Fuck you! You know my family! You know we don't fuck around! Any more out of you and your ass belongs to Daddy!"

"Yeah, yeah," the guy replied cryptically. "I know your family." He'd calmed down in a hurry. I got the feeling he did know the kid's family, and he also know they could get to him if need be.

In a flash, I envisioned a chartered social club. . .card games, dominoes, cigars. . .exotic topless women swaying atop the bar.

I shoulda stayed there.

"The luck of the devil," I muttered to no one for no particular reason.

The kid's eyes sharpened and aimed my way. "I'm the devil," he said. "The Albanian devil." A laugh followed, almost diffusing things.

I felt a tension dragging at the corners of my mouth. "That's news to me. Don't look like any devil I ever saw. Albanian or otherwise."

The kid nodded, either not comprehending or not caring. Momentary puzzlement, then he looked back up.

"You're like me. I know you are. You're Aryan like me. A good Aryan. Me and you...we're the same."

I didn't much like the sound of it.

"The same but different."

Jimmy was focused now. "Why don't you shut up kid?"

No way could I let this go any further. . .the evening had already been rendered a shameful absurdity.

I looked at Jimmy, lightly took his arm. "Awe, c'mon, I'm bored with this shit already. Let's go to the Hangman's Noose."

I threw my coat on, walked out and up the block.

In front of Te-Amo, the DiMaria twins were walking by.

"Hello ladies, I said, kissing both of their right hands.

They giggled. "Whattya always call me?" asked Denise DiMaria.

"Neeeeeeeesy," I replied, making my voice unnaturally light and benign. And the three of us laughed...and something inside me warmed up.

And it occured to me. . .sometimes its as simple as opening the door.

That night, at the Sunnyside Gardens, Bruno Sammartino defeated Ivan Koloff with an atomic spinecrusher to retain his World Wide Wrestling Federation Championship.