I went out to a local sports bar with a friend of mine on Sunday evening. He only had a few days left until he left Alaska and went home to Arkansas. I was excited to help him celebrate his last days in The Last Frontier so I got all dressed up and went down to the bar. Initially, I did not see him as I walked through the door so I made my way to the end of the bar and prepared to text him. Something told me to look up and lo, and behold, there he was but he was not sitting by himself. There was a man and a woman sitting at the table with him who I did not recognize. I was introduced to them, Frank and Julie. Frank was short of stature, donned what looked to be like a tam-o-chanter cap, had a diastema between his two upper front teeth, and sported John Lennon look-alike spectacles. Julie was curvy, wore glasses and had some kind of Alaska native heritage. She was from Seward and was living in the local Women's Shelter due to being a victim of domestic violence. I asked her how long she'd been there? Since last June! I asked her where she worked? She is disabled and has a two year contract with the Women's Shelter for housing! Hmmmmm. Disabled, victim of D.V., unemployed yet could afford to buy drinks at the bar?
Anyway, the three of them had already started on their drinks as I ordered my Tangueray and Tonic. Conversations were started or commenced as we all sat back and enjoyed the evening. My friend has some great stories to tell since he's lead an interesting life and he proceeded to relate one. It eventually lead to the subject of tattoos; which he had several of. The other gentleman proceeded to show me one of his tattoos as well. I just happened to inform them both that I was searching for pictures of tattoos and the stories behind them for a picture book I wanted to publish. This spurred my friend to promptly stand up and run outside. While he was gone, the other gentleman asked me what I did for a living. I told him that I managed a local dental office. He then asked me what my yearly earnings were. I told him such and such amount of money. He then stated that I could make $3,000/night working for him. Being curious, I asked him what I'd be doing as his employee? He sat up straight on the barstool, looked me directly in the eye and stated, "I'm a pimp!" Now, I am not a very good liar and my reactions are prompt and pure so when I heard that, I am sure the look on my face was priceless! I graciously declined his "generous" offer and said that I did not need that kind of money nor was I interested in that type of work! He proceeded to reach into his jacket and extract his wallet. He handed me two polaroids showing young naked girls! I glanced at them, handed them back, and stated that they were young and obviously uneducated and maybe this profession worked for them. Being the smart-ass that I am, I tossed out the comment, "Even if that were the case, no man around here could afford me! Besides, I am too old to be a call girl!" He asked me just how old I was. "47!" "Well, this IS Kenai, after all!" I was flabbergasted at his nerve! My friend sat down right in the middle of the last exchange and had a puzzled look on his face as if to say, "What did I miss?" I turned toward him and stated in a clear, distinct, and loud voice, "I DO have high standards!" We all had another round of drinks. My friend and I were perusing pics on his cell and discussing them. I got to see his new lover, his kids, ex-wives, his sportscar and his condo in New York City. I heard about his cancer treatments, his career as a green beret, how he lost the feeling in both his hands and his crazy, gypsy soul. Time flew and soon it was time to leave. My friend went up to the bar to pay his tab. In his short absence, "pimpdaddy" had the balls to ask me for my phone number! "NOOOOOO!" "Well, can I give you mine?" "NOOOOOOOO!" "I just wanna talk to you later tonight!" I gave him "the look" then once again said "NOOOOOOOO! FUCK OFF!" My friend was oblivious to this since his back was to us and when he approached me for a good-bye hug, he felt something and gave me "the look" then asked if I needed a ride home; if I was okay to drive? Since I only live a few blocks away, I told him I would be fine. They both left and I waited a few minutes before I followed. Once home, I received a text from my buddy asking if I'd made it home safely. In my return text, I stated that I would have taken him up on his offer to drive me home but "Captain Pimp" hitching a ride with him! I certainly did not want HIM knowing where I lived! I also told my friend that he was a pasty little weasel and needed to slide back into the slimy hole he crawled out of. I had visions of homicide floating around in my slightly drunken mind so it is a good thing I came home and went to bed!
I keep telling myself that I should not be allowed out of my dungeon and that when I do choose to mingle with my fellow human beings, weird shit happens and I seem to attract that kind of element!
