Copyright ©2012 by Creole Gaudet. All rights reserved
No part of this story 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.
When in New Orleans, I often visit a little bar that sits a few blocks off Bourbon Street. The patrons are loyal, mostly working class, with the majority of them employed in the service industry.
There are darts, video poker, skee-Ball, big screens for sports, and food and drink. However, the big attraction is the two pool tables. The main table is used by the hardcore league players and gamblers. The second table is open.
As I placed my set of quarters on the rail, I counted three duplicate stacks. They were playing Scotch Doubles with BCA rules, so it wasn’t going to be too long to get on. As I stood waiting, I noticed a young lady who was seated at the bar look my way several times. I wasn’t sure of her reasoning, so I kept my position, figuring that if she was interested in me, she’d eventually let me know.
Then a guy whom I will call Josh came up and broke into his usual negativity routine. You see, Josh is a well-known hater and always has a complaint about something or another. His opening this time was a take on the two women at the second table.
“What’s up, Creole?”
“Hey, Josh. What’s up with you?”
Josh nodded. “I’m looking at those two.”
“Shooting pool?”
“Yeah, look at the skinny one. The bitch must be on meth or something.”
“You think so?”
“Hell yeah, and that other one looks old as fuck.” Josh was full of mirth as he sipped his bottled beer. “Bitch went to high school with Jesus.”
“They both look fine to me.”
He then scanned the room, noticing the girl seated at the bar. “Creole, that one over there is checking you out.”
“I saw her earlier.”
“Yeah, but ain’t nobody want no fat bitch like that. Look at her… You couldn’t pay me ten thousand dollars to fuck that big, nasty bitch.”
“Really, Josh?” I turned, facing him. “Really? Not even for ten thousand dollars? Are you serious?”
It was only moments later when I saw her making her way over, smiling as she approached me. She held out her hand. “Hey, I’m Karli.”
“Hello, Karli. I’m Creole.” We shook. “Nice to meet you.”
“I noticed you when you walked in.”
“I did see that, but I wasn’t sure and I didn’t want to assume…”
Josh abruptly stepped between the two of us, giving me his back shoulder. “I’m Josh.”
Karli replied with a gentle smile. “Hey, Josh.”
“Where you from?”
“Well, I’m originally from California.”
“Whatcha doing here?”
“I’m pre-med over at Tulane.”
“Studying to be a doctor, huh?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Well, how about you give me an exam?” Josh grinned, grabbing at his crotch. “I have an issue with my cock. It’s about six inches…too long.”
“You’re a natural asshole!” Karli voice trailed as she stammered away. “Such an ass!”
“Bye.” Josh laughed hysterically, taking a final shot. “And don’t come back. You were sucking up all the air conditioning anyway!” He looked to me. “Did you see that? You saw how I handled that bitch.”
“Why did you have to insult her? What’s wrong with you?”
“Me? What’s wrong with her? She called me an asshole. You heard her. I’m not letting her talk to me like that.”
“Talk to you? If you hadn’t bullied your way into our conversation, I would still be talking to her.”
“You have to get in there, Creole. It’s every man for himself.”
“Says the man that wouldn’t have sex with her for ten thousand dollars.”
“Right.”
“So why would you not just keep your mouth closed and stay out of it?”
“You want that chunky bitch? I fucking thought I was doing you a favor.”
“Josh, you ever think that I might like women with a few extra pounds? Did you ever consider that?
“That girl may have been the best lover, friend, or confidant a guy could ever have his entire life. Or she might have been rich or may have been on the lookout for a boyfriend for her girlfriend or sister. But you would never know now, would you?”
“I didn’t think about all that.”
“I don’t know what part of that brain of yours that you do think with, but you should have it removed. Just cut your head open and dig that shit out; no anesthesia.”
I stepped closer, placing my hand on his shoulder. “Josh, you are the most miserable man I’ve ever known. You are so negative that you stand in front of anything positive that could ever come your way. You should do some deep soul searching, brother. I’ll holler at you later.”
As I racked the balls, I realized that I should have just taken the high road and stepped away, holding my opinions to myself. Josh was never going to change. Guys like him…never do.
Creole Gaudet
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