We’re back in 1991. This is the continuation of last week’s story when Eric met the fabulous Frangelica.
Want to get caught up? Start here. And if you want a list of the whole shebang, go here.
********
“So, was that a friend of yours?”
Eric looked up to see a tall, heavy-set man standing next to his table, holding two beers.
“No, no. We just met tonight. She just sat down and started talking to me for some reason,” Eric shrugged.
“Well, I can see why. You seem like someone people would like to sit down next to. Do you mind?” he said, as he placed the glasses on the table and sat down in the chair that had just been vacated by Frangelica.
“Um, yeah. . . I mean, no, go ahead.”
“Drink?” He held out one of the beers. Eric looked down at his empty glass.
“Uh, sure. Thanks.”
“I’m Simon.” His meaty hand and all but enveloped Eric’s in his grasp.
“Eric. Nice to meet you. Are you from here?”
“Me? From San Francisco? Heavens no. I’m just visiting. From Atlanta. But I get out here a few times a year on business. I like it out here…” He pressed his palms to his knees and drummed his fingers as he quickly scanned Eric up and down. Eric pretended to look at some people over at the bar and took a few swallows of his beer. He set it down and looked at his almost-full glass.
“You know, I should really go,” Eric said.
“Why? You got a big meeting tomorrow?” Simon burst out with a laugh that doubled him over in his seat and sounded like some kind of tropical bird. He grabbed Eric’s shoulder and shook it. “You look so confused! I was just makin’ a little joke. I overheard you talking to the tranny. Come on. Where do you have to go? To check in with your momma? Stay here and finish your beer.”
“Um, yeah, I just. I should really get going.”
Simon’s face dropped. He set his beer on the table and slumped back in his chair. “It’s because I’m too fat, isn’t it. Or is it the beard? Pretty boys like you don’t like the beard…”
“I don’t…”
“…Or my shirt. It probably isn’t cool enough. I just never know…”
“It seems fine…”
“… what you people are into. Frangelica? Is that your thing? Because I can’t compete with that if that’s your thing. Look, I am sorry if I’m not good looking enough for you. I just thought I’d come over and share some nice conversation. You seemed kind of lonely. I was just trying to be congenial. But if you can’t accept the kindness of strangers, I suppose that’s your problem.”
“No, no, it’s fine.” Eric held up his hands. He pressed them forward and back as he spoke, punctuating the end of each sentence. “I think you’re a really good looking guy. The goatee looks good on you. Let’s just. . . drink our beer.”
Photo by Juri Staikov
Simon kept his eyes on the floor and smiled. “Well. If you insist.” He looked up, grabbed his beer, and clinked Eric’s glass. “Hey, I have an idea. Let’s seal the deal with a shot. Hey bartender! Two double vodkas!”
“Actually, I’m good. Really.”
A waiter set two glasses in front of them, and Simon rubbed his hands together, “Come on, I’m buyin’. Bottoms up.” Eric gave him a tight-lipped smile and threw back the drink. The smooth warmth spread down the back of his throat and into his stomach. He felt his face relax. If he was going to be stuck, he might as well get drunk.
“So what do you do,” said Eric. “There’s no point in talking about what I do since I don’t do anything. Let’s talk about you.”
“Oh, my life is pretty boring. I got out of college a couple of years ago. Now I work for some people — political stuff. Hey! Can we get two more over here? You feel like a Depth Charge?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I don’t know what the hell a Depth Charge is. Wait, you just got out of college? How old are you?”
“I know, I look 35, right? I’ve looked 35 since I was about 16. But I’m 24. It came in handy for buyin’ al-key-haul for all my friends.” The waiter set down two shot glasses and two more beers. “Okay, so now, you drop the shot into the beer and then drink the whole thing before the glass hits the bottom.”
“Are you sure you didn’t just graduate? You drink like you’re still in college.”
“You are so funny!” He let out with another tropical bird laugh. “Are you ready? Go!” The shot glasses plopped into the fizzing beers and dropped to the bottom as they picked them up and gulped them down. “You beat me!” Simon said as his glass came down after Eric’s.
Eric smiled and ran his thumb and middle finger from the corners of his mouth to the center of his bottom lip. “You messed with the wrong guy.”
“Well, apparently so. Hey! Can we get two more shots over here?”
********
“Now don’t you worry about a thing. We’ll grab a taxi back to my hotel, and you can stay at my place,” Simon said, as the door of the bar shut behind them. Eric’s arm was draped over his shoulder, and Simon was half-carrying, half-dragging him up the sidewalk. “You should’ve known that you’ll never drink someone under the table who outweighs you by a hundred pounds.”
“Just, stick me in a cab. I’ll get home just fine.” Eric’s head rested on his shoulder.
“I’ll do no such thing. Don’t be silly. Now come on.”
“I’m fine.”
“No you’re not! Just come back to my place. It’ll make things so much easier.”
“Simon, please, just please get me home.”
“It’s final. You’re coming with me.”
“Look, I’m not going to your hotel with you!” Eric straighten up, pushed himself away from Simon, and started staggering down the sidewalk. Simon was quickly back at his side, his arm around his shoulders.
“Now, don’t you tell me that I spent all night long, buying you drinks, and watching you make goo-goo eyes at me, just so I could go home alone.” They stopped walking. Simon grabbed Eric’s face with his free hand — his thumb on one cheek and and fingers on the other. His high, light, southern accent faded. “We had a deal? Remember? We drank on it.”
Eric squinted at him. His head looked enormous and the lights behind him swayed. Simon’s arm felt like a boa constrictor crushing his shoulders. His legs felt like they might buckle at any moment.
“Shimon. . . I really have to. . . go. . . now. . .”
“No. You really should stay a little while longer.”
Suddenly they were moving so fast. The lights, the sidewalk, the cars all disappeared and they were in an alley. Yes. That was it. An alley. Eric could see the street like a lit doorway down a long, dark hallway. He was pressed against a brick wall, and as his hands felt the rough, damp surface, he realized Simon’s were making there way up through his sweater, all around his chest and back.
“Stop.”
Simon burrowed his face into Eric’s neck. His whiskers rubbed against Eric’s collar bone, and the moisture from his hot, sour breath stuck on Eric’s skin.
“I said stop.” The words came out flat. He raised his hands and put them on Simon’s shoulders. Simon was unbuttoning his own pants as he kept Eric pinned to the wall with the top half of his body.
“You don’t mean that. I know you like me. You said you liked me. You’re just feeling tense. You just relax. Just relax.” He reached up and took one one of Eric’s hands off of his shoulders and brought it down between his legs. Eric’s hand recoiled.
“I said STOP!” He shoved Simon backward, making him trip over a something metal that made a loud clang and almost sent him to the ground.
“You little fucker!” He grabbed the top of his pants and pulled them up so they weren’t pooled at his ankles. “Nobody tells me what to do! You hear me! We had a deal! You little fuck! We had a deal!” He grabbed Eric by the arm and flung him around so he faced the wall. Eric pushed back, but Simon just gave his head a quick tap and Eric’s forehead slammed against the bricks. Bright light shone in front of his eyes, but he couldn’t see a thing. He felt his pants being yanked down to the ground, and suddenly the stench of garbage in the ally made him want to vomit. He could feel hot liquid making its way up his throat as Simon spit on his fingers and put them inside him.
“Everything okay back here, boys?”
The top of Eric’s head was pressed against the brick wall. He slowly turned it to see the silhouettes of three enormous drag queens, framed by the light from the doorway to the street.
Read Part 15: Under Frangelica’s Wing
********
This week’s prompt: Use the cliche, “absence makes the heart grow fonder” in your story (when you are not with a loved one, you tend to miss them more). You decide how to use it and if your character agrees with it or not. As an added optional challenge, use the literary device, “antithesis” (used when the writer employs two sentences of contrasting meanings in close proximity to one another. Whether they are words or phrases of the same sentence, an antithesis is used to create a stark contrast using two divergent elements that come together to create one uniform whole. An antithesis plays on the complementary property of opposites to create one vivid picture. The purpose of using an antithesis in literature is to create a balance between opposite qualities and lend a greater insight into the subject.
Example: When Neil Armstrong walked on the moon it might have been one small step for a man but it was one giant leap for mankind.
And please check out my writing pals:
Tammy Soong is a writer, wife, and mom from Reno, Nevada. She takes an absurd amount of pain medication, but not enough to have actually named her children "Newt" and "Elfie." She spends most days stressing out over clutter, writing stuff for this place, and working on podcasts with her gal pals, the Blogging Betties.
Woah. Holy accelerated heartrate, Batman. That? Was scary, and amazing, and gross (hot, sour breath…yuck). All of it. And now I can’t wait to see what those kick-ass drag queens are going to do!!
Ick, I know. I was grossed out writing it.
Wow. I wasn’t expecting that! And yes, heart racing! You are a very gifted story teller!
Alexa recently posted..Friday Fiction Friends #7
Thanks Alexa!
Eric is probably wishing he stayed home right about now 🙂 Love the way you describe the characters. And the tropical bird laugh was funny.
It’s weird how certain attributes just come to you. Simon has some very stand-outish characteristics.
My heart was racing! Excellent build up (no pun intended); you also cleverly worked in humor, strong sexual overtures and tension…juicy! You kept me locked into the story the entire time. I agree with Kat – you have an amazing story-telling talent. That’s a gift, Tammy!
Clearly Kristal recently posted..Fiction Friday #5: Danny Boy – Outside the Lines
Thanks Kristal! I’m glad I got you locked in.
Ah! Drag Queens to the rescue! Always welcome, in my book!
TMW recently posted..Remy Speaks
That’s the truth…
you’re so gifted. really. the pacing was amazing and i am thrilled for frangelica’s appearance. simon’s a dick. i love that you’re doing this and i think you’re still having fun. this is tremendous.
molly recently posted..Another Poem, “Houses”
I know, I’m glad I’m still doing it, too. Can’t thank you enough.:)