Solitary Story

“Love?” Andrew said too loudly, "You're asking me about love?”

The whole bar at The Sizzler quieted.

“I'll tell you about love,” Andrew said. “I'll be glad to tell you all you want to know about love!”

The big guy with the gold watch didn't say a word.

“It hurts, and it hurts bad” Andrew told him. “It comes to you once and it never comes again, and then you decide if you want to put a bullet through your head, or settle for someone less!”

The big guy had been sitting there quietly and now was standing clear-eyed and steady, waiting. Andrew had the floor. The cooks were watching through their window. Even the buss-boys were watching.

“Then it's gone,” Andrew continued. “It just finds someone new, you know what I mean?” He looked at his friends at the far corner of the bar and saw them half standing and looking back at him, all three waving him over.

“No, you probably don't,” Andrew said turning back to the man. “A big handsome guy like you wouldn't have a clue.” He patted him on the cheek.

The man, who was ten years older than Andrew and a head taller, and heavier by a hundred pounds at least, looked at Andrew for two beats, and then swung.

Andrew ducked his punch, lifted his head, ducked a second punch, and in a very well practiced fluid motion, head-butted the big guy in the jaw--which sent the man to his knees.

Andrew turned and left through the gap people made moving out of his way. He found himself outside on a wide sidewalk he thought was probably Hollywood Blvd. He went left for no particular reason. There were cars and lights and a mob of people walking. He wondered about his friends at the bar, but he didn't stop. It felt nice to be walking. Twenty minutes later they all three came jogging up out of breath.

Catalina said, “What was that?”

“Five shots of Cuervo Gold,” he said.

Johnny Tee and Martin were walking fast to catch up.

“What the hell, bullshit was that?” Catalina said. She grabbed him by the arm. He stopped. They all stopped. “You can't keep doing this!” She looked up into his rosy eyes, her own eyes black with eye-liner and wide with anger. “You-Can't-Keep-Doing-This!” she said.

“They really shouldn't serve alcohol to minors,” he said and began walking again.

She stopped him, grabbing his black leather jacket.

“You can't!” she said. “You have to let her go!”

Pedestrians huffed and puffed and shuffled to both sides to get around them. There were head-lights and brake-lights and white sodium street-lights. The world began to spin.

Andrew said, “I know!” and began walking again in the same direction as before, again for no particular reason.

His friends followed. They told him the car was the other way, but he didn't stop and they followed along four paces behind. They saw by his shoulders that he was crying and they looked at one another and hurried to keep up.

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