Category: Blog

STINKY CHEEK BAR AND GRILL – OUTSIDE – 8:30 P.M.

“I like the way you stood up for yourself in there.”

“You know, I always tip my servers very well. But… She’s too much!”

“Crystal’s cool. I think that she may have been a bit put off by you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“She’s usually the hot chick in the place.”

“So, she’s not getting all the attention, so she takes it out on me. Make me sound unreasonable to everyone.”

“It didn’t work, though.”

“Damn right it didn’t work.” They laugh.

“So, I’ve never seen you here before.”

“Is this your spot or something?”

“Yeah, I eat here often because that way I don’t have to try and cook, you know? I’m not that good at it… What brought you out here if you don’t mind my asking?”

“I was supposed to meet this guy…”

“And here you were just questioning me if I had a wife or a girlfriend… I knew it. Ha! I knew it was too good to be true.”

“Stop getting ahead of yourself. You don’t know that I’m even interested in you.”

“You said I was cute.”

“And sexy.”

Dillon playfully takes a step back. “Maybe I shouldn’t stand too close to you, though. I don’t want to mess up your game. He may show up and take things the wrong way.”

“It isn’t a date, Dillon.”

“Okay. I like the sound of that. So, who is he?”

“Someone whom David told me about. Told me to meet him here.”

“Who’s David?”

She looks at her watch. “My cousin.”

“What time was he supposed to be here?”

“Two hours ago.”

“Damn.” Dillon pauses for a moment. “Let me ask you something, Camilla.” He leans in. “You can tell me it’s none of my business, and I won’t be offended. But, uh, was he supposed to bring you a little something?”

“Yes!”

“I see… Well, maybe I can be of some assistance. You looking for some weed. My bandmate always has.”

“Nah, I don’t smoke.”

“Some white?”

“I was.”

Dillon smiled. “Well, Camilla. This is your lucky evening.”

“You have a plug?”

“I do.”

“Can you put it together?!”

“Yup.”

“Okay… Do we have to go and meet him? Can he come by?”

“You’re looking at him.”

“You, Dillon?” She laughed. “Come on.”

“I’m serious.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Why?”

“I just don’t. You’re a little too church boy. Too pretty. Perfect teeth. Smooth light brown skin. Dimples on your cheeks. This isn’t your lane.”

“Fish scale, right off the brick. No footprints.”

“You are serious.”

“Yes. I got you.”

“That sounds good… Do you have something with you?”

“Not here. It’s at my place…over on Rampart. Just a few blocks up the way.”

“Okay, let’s go. Am I riding with you?”

“I walked. It’s really not that far.”

“Ride with me. I’d rather not leave my car here anyway.”

“Where did you park?”

She points to the green Aston Martin. “Right here.”

“This is yours? I saw it when I came in.”

“That’s my baby. The DBS 770 Ultimate Volante.”

“Those wheels are wild. This is incredibly nice, Camilla…and green.”

“Kermit Green.”

“Bright ass green.”

“Do you want to drive it?”

“Hell no. No way. Nope.”

“Why not?”

“This car… This car…must at least cost a hundred grand. At least!”

“A hundred grand? You’re not even in the ballpark, Dillon.”

“What? Is it less? Eighty grand! No less than that.”

“No, it’s much more. You’re looking at half a million dollars.”

“Oh! Wait…! What?! Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Camilla bursts with laughter. “It’s not that serious.”

“Not that serious? I’m not going to even take a chance of putting an ass impression on the seat. It’s a good thing the top is down because I’m going to stand up while we ride.”

“Dillon! You’re so crazy! This is the best laugh I’ve had since I can remember!”

“As a matter of fact, I’m not riding in that car, Camilla. Hell nah. I’ll give you my address, and I’ll meet you at my place. I’m walking.”

“Oh, shit! Stop it! I’m about to pee myself!”

Creole Gaudet

If you enjoyed this content and would like access to all my books, stories, and series episodes, please visit my Patreon page.

Copyright ©2017 by Creole Gaudet. All rights reserved.

No part of this episode may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system – except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine or newspaper – without permission in writing from the publisher, Creole Gaudet.

“My humble apologies, Dillon. I am so sorry.”

“Oh no, please don’t get upset.”

“I know you must hate me.”

“No, not at all. I realize it was a mistake.”

Camilla scrambled, shuffling through her purse. “I swear I would never steal anything from anyone.” She places the hundred into his palm as she pans the room. “I wasn’t raised that way… I don’t have to steal.”

“Relax, please. I believe you. I do.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure. I know you didn’t mean to, okay? Forget about it.”

Camilla takes a long look. “Who are you? You look like some kind of… What do you do?”

“I play in a band.”

“I somehow knew that.”

“That I played in a band?”

“Or you were an actor or something. Something to do with the arts. You just have that artist look. That big wavy pompadour and the slick sideburns. Your skinny jeans with the flared bottoms and your boots. The cool retro Jimi Hendrix tee…. And your teeth are perfect too. Did you ever have braces?”

“No.”

“So, you’re just naturally cute…and sexy.”

“I guess so.”

“And you’re kind of shy too.”

“I’m not shy.”

“Yes, you are. I bet that if I didn’t owe you that hundred, you would have never come over and talked to me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You’re a shy boy, Dillon.”

“I’m not!”

“Yes, you are. Look at how you’re blushing.”

“Wow, so you’re psychoanalyzing me. You’ve got me all figured out.”

“Big word alert. He’s intelligent, too.”

“You’re funny. I hope that all this is a good thing.”

“It is, Dillon. It is. So many guys approach and are so lame. I get the ghetto hood game. The guys who think that proclaiming how beautiful they think I am will somehow, magically win me over.”

“You are beautiful, though.”

“Thank you. And thank you for not starting with that. Then there are the ones who will flat out offer me money to sleep with them like I’m some kind of working girl or courtesan.”

“What’s a courtesan?”

“And you’re naive too. I’m really beginning to like you, Dillon. Do you have a girlfriend? Are you married?”

“No and no.”

“Oh, no…please tell me you’re not gay.”

“Fuck no!”

Camilla is filled with mirth. “You know, you can tell me. It’s okay.”

“No. I’m not gay, alright?”

“So, you like the pussy?”

“Yes, only the pussy!”

“Good to know!” She slaps the play button. The three reels come to a stop. It’s double diamonds across the pay line. “Yes! I knew it!”

Dillon looks at the display. “Did you win?”

“Twenty-five thousand!” All eyes were now on Camilla.

“Are you serious?!”

“Time to cash out.” She stands, removing her ticket. “Come on.”

As the two approach, Crystal awaits with a broad smile. “I’m so happy for you…”

“Cash me out.”

“Okay, no problem.”

Camilla watched with a close eye as Crystal returned from the storeroom with five stacks of pre-sorted cash.”I had to go into the safe to get all of this… You really did well…”

Camilla turns to Dillon as she counts her winnings. “I’m not sure if all this will fit into my purse.” She parts off five thousand. “Here.” She reaches it towards Dillon. “I would have lost the machine if not for you.”

“For me? I couldn’t accept that.”

“Why not?”

“Nah, it’s your money.”

“I wouldn’t have won it without you coming to my rescue.”

Crystal cuts in. “Can I get you anything to drink? Would you like something to eat? We have…”

Camilla tugs at Dillon’s front pocket. He backs two steps. “You’re going to take this money or what?”

“Nope.”

“Why, Dillon? Why won’t you take it?”

“I wouldn’t feel right. I wouldn’t.”

“Unbelievable… Okay… I guess I’ll just have to spend it all on myself.”

Crystal’s temples were beaded with sweat. She leaned in, lowering her pitch. “How about me? I’ll take it.”

Camilla turned to her, glaring fiercely. “It’s Crystal, right?”

“Yes. Crystal. That’s me.”

“You’re expecting a tip?”

“That would be nice.”

“I’m usually very generous, Crystal. Usually. As a matter of fact, this would have been your tip. I would have given you the whole five. But, I’m not. You get nothing from me.”

Crystal’s face morphed into a scowl. “Are you serious?! You know, it’s customary to tip the bartender when you win! That’s how it goes!”

“It’s also customary to give change when a player needs it too!”

“I didn’t have twenties!”

“You just sat a thousand in twenties in front of me, Crystal!”

“But I didn’t know I had that!”

“It’s your job to know or to go and check at least! But instead, you decided to be rude and embarrass me in front of this whole bar in front of all these people.”

Crystal began to sob. “You don’t know how hard this job is and what I go through. I have to deal with all kinds of people. You don’t know my life!”

“And guess what. I don’t care either.”

“You’re attacking me! You’re being mean to me!”

Camilla takes Dillon’s hand into hers, clutching their fingers together. “Let’s go. This bitch is crazy!”

Creole Gaudet

If you enjoyed this content and would like access to all my books, stories, and series episodes, please visit my Patreon page.

Copyright ©2017 by Creole Gaudet. All rights reserved.

No part of this episode may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system – except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine or newspaper – without permission in writing from the publisher, Creole Gaudet.

Camilla, set in New Orleans, is the open-ended story of Dillon, a handsome young rock musician on the brink of stardom, who meets Camilla, a beautiful girl from a family of wealth. 

---

Just across the levee, the calliope of the Steamboat Natchez is playing against the warning horn as it paddles away into the sunset.

A small group enjoying a horse and buggy ride down Decatur Street has steered their attention towards a merry bunch of tourists gathered around a troupe of teenage tap dancers and jazz musicians, playing for tips.

A young guy, mid-twenties, takes a pause at the bright green sports coupe parked just outside the Stinky Cheek Bar and Grill. He enters to the sounds of The Neville’s, “Sissy Strut”, blasting from the jukebox. The wooden floors groan under his boot heels as he strides towards his favorite spot, a stool near the open doorway.

“Are you eating, Dillon, or just drinking?”

“Eating.”

“Your usual?”

“With fries, please?”

“Fries too?” She grinned, raking her blonde locks away from her bright blue eyes. “You must have worked up an appetite. Band practice?”

“I’m worn out.”

“You’re going to get there. Keep working. You’ll be a star.”

“Thanks, Crystal.”

---

He was halfway through his catfish po’ boy when he noticed her.

Strands of her full chestnut mane blew ever so slightly under the slow-spinning ceiling fans. Her thin, shapely figure was hugged by a red, rose colored dress.

She stood at the bar, anxiously waiting as Crystal tended to a customer at the far end. “I need change, please!”

Crystal’s head spun around. “I’ll be with you in a moment!”

Dillon watched as she turned towards the video poker machines near the rear. A chair was leaned against one; the other two had players, and at a side table were a middle-aged couple waiting to get on.

She dug into her purse and removed a bill. She held it high. “I need change, please. I’m playing.”

Crystal’s long, skinny legs hurried towards her. “I can only wait on one person at a time.” She glanced at the hundred. “I don’t have it right now.”

“What do you mean you don’t have it right now?”

“I need my change for later on. It’s Sunday, and in about an hour, lots of people will be coming in. It’s going to get hectic.”

“It’s about to get hectic right now. I’m playing that machine…” She looked back, stealing a peek. “People are waiting on it, and I’ve already lost a lot of money that I’m trying to win back.”

“Sorry, I need my change.”

“Okay, what if I ordered another drink?”

“Nope.” There was a slight moan across the room. “I still don’t have it.”

“What kind of bullshit is this?! Where is your manager?!”

“He’s not here right now.”

“When will he be back?”

“In about a half hour or so.”

“That’ll be too late!”

“Not my problem.” Crystal was filled with spite as she traipsed away. She faced a few bottles before picking up the feather duster.

“I hope he’s getting change for your…lots of people.”

Crystal lowered her pitch. “Poker machines take hundreds.”

“If I’d wanted to play a hundred, I would have played a hundred!”

“You’re going to end up putting it all in there anyway.”

Fire shot from the girl’s eyes. “Bitch!”

Dillon stood, cutting in. “I have it. Hold on.” This drew ire from Crystal. He peeled five twenties off a folded wad he’d retrieved from his front left pocket and handed them to her.

“Thank you so much!” She turned to Crystal as she sexily sashayed away. Her voice trailed behind her. “And you’re a terrible bartender!”

Dillon laughed. “Why are you being so mean, Crystal?”

“I was not being mean. She was rude. I have my regulars to take care of. She’s impatient. Thinks she can get whatever she wants when she wants it.”

“She was about to lose her machine.”

“So… Captain save a ho.”

“You did not just call me… Wow! Here’s one for my tab, and the other is for you.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Twenty dollars better.”

“Ha! Look at you, desperado. You didn’t even finish your sandwich. Go save your ho.”

Dillon approached slowly, taking a lean against the side of the one armed bandit, he watched as the girl dropped her second Andrew into the slot. “How’s it going?”

“I’m about to win.”

“Okay.”

“I am, man! Don’t jinx me!”

“Alright, I’m just asking how it’s going?” He paused, taking a beat. “I’m Dillon. What’s your name?”

“Camilla. Please tell me that you did not come over here to shoot your shot…”

“Whoa! Hold on… Don’t come at me like that.”

She stopped playing. “What do you want, dude?”

“You think I can get that hundred?”

“The hundred?”

“I gave you five twenties…”

“Yeah… What kind of shit are you trying to run?”

“What kind of shit are you trying to run?”

She studied him. “You’re too cute to be a hustler?”

“And you’re about the prettiest hustler I’ve ever seen.”

“Me?” She broke into laughter. “I don’t have to hustle anyone. I can promise you that.”

“I can’t tell. I’ll just say that you were so pissed off at Crystal that you actually forgot.”

“Oh my god! I owe you a hundred-dollar bill!”

Creole Gaudet

If you enjoyed this content and would like access to all my books, stories, and series episodes, please visit my Patreon page.

Copyright ©2017 by Creole Gaudet. All rights reserved.

No part of this episode may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system – except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine or newspaper – without permission in writing from the publisher, Creole Gaudet.