Carl's Corner... Part IX
Back To The Story.....
I told Elizabeth that I was going to take a quick walk around the place to check on things before Tony and I started playing.
Walking back to the kitchen, I saw Reggie and Margo sitting at the same table they were at the night Margo exposed her body and her perversions to me. I deliberately avoided making eye contact, hoping that they would leave me alone.
Of course, that didn't work worth a damn!
"Hey Ron!! Are you ever gonna start playing?" Margo screamed.
"Yeah, we'll be starting in a few minutes." I said while still heading to the kitchen.
"I wasn't talkin' about playing music!" she leered at me while she cupped her massive sacks of silicone.
Holy crap lady, haven't you heard the old saying, 'more than a freakin' bucket full is a waste'? That old broad looked like a caricature of a caricature of a woman who had over done breast enhancement!
As I got to the kitchen, I saw our new cook Allan standing over the grill with his head poked up into the ventilation hood.
He didn't see me.
I walked up to him and, of course, he couldn't hear me with the powerful fan running. Initially, I thought he was cleaning the hood or, worse, that the damn thing wasn't working. As I got closer, I saw what was going on.
He was smoking a joint!
I had told him during the hiring process that smokin' dope on the job was not allowed. Hell, I could tell by looking at him that he was a pot smoker. Honestly, it takes one to know one right? I just didn't want him slicing a finger off on the clock so....I had harshly warned his ass.
I tapped him on the shoulder and, as he snapped his head up, he damn near knocked himself out on the vent covering!
I was laughing my ass off watching him freak out until I saw the blood running down his neck. Man, he was bleeding like something out of a freakin' horror movie!
He was bent over at the waist and blood was now dripping all over the floor. Unfortunately, he saw it and totally lost it. He started squealing like a small girl child and dropped to his knees.
I found a towel and handed it to him.
"Hold that on your head...TIGHT!" I told him. "I'll be right back."
I ran back to the bar.
"Carla, call 911, Allan's bleeding all over the kitchen." I said quietly.
Dex overheard me.
"I'm a certified EMT, let me go check him out before you call." he said.
As we hustled to the kitchen, I told Dex what had happened. When we got there, Allan was still kneeling on the floor like a Muslim facing Mecca. He was now whimpering like a puppy. Dex leaned over and grabbed him by the shoulders.
"Straighten up and let me look at it." he ordered.
"Man, call an ambulance." Allan whimpered. "I'm bleeding to death!"
"Straighten up Allan!" Dex shouted.
Allan just remained there kneeling, whimpering and rocking.
Dex looked at me and shook his head.
He reached out, grabbed a huge handful of Allan's hair and began pulling upward.
"Get the fuck up you big pussy!" he roared.
Like magic, he did just as he was told.
Dex pulled the towel away.
"Dude, I've cut myself shaving worse than this." he grinned. "Head wounds just bleed alot...you'll be ok."
He told me to go get some ice and a clean towel which I did. He then placed it on the wound and told Allan to hold it tight for a bit.
"Man, I need to go to the hospital." Allan moaned and then looked up at me. "You did this to me...I'm gonna sue the fuck out of this place."
Dex looked at me and shook his head as if to say, "I hate dumb fucks."
He reached down and grabbed Allan's left wrist and pulled it up.
"What's this?" he demanded.
I looked down and realized that the idiot still had two thirds of a joint clinched tightly in his fingers.
"Big deal, I was smokin' a joint." Allan said defiantly.
"Allan" Dex said. "I'm a cop."
Allan straightened up.
"What? You're gonna bust me for one joint?" he asked.
"No, I'm gonna bust you for the rest of the pot you've got on you." he growled. "Empty your pockets."
Allan looked at me and I just shrugged my shoulders.
He did as he was told and, sure enough, he revealed a baggie with a dozen rolled joints.
"Bingo." Dex said with a laugh. "Let's go to jail dumbass."
"Oh yeah...Allan." I said.
He looked up at me.
"You're fired." I said laughing.
He started crying.
Well shit! What the hell happened to the days when guys would rather die than fucking CRY?
Personally, I blame it all on Phil Donahue and Oprah fuckin' Winfrey!
However, I digress.........
"Allan, get the hell up, clean yourself up and clean this floor." I told him. "That's the only way you ain't going to jail or losing your job."
He looked at me as though I'd told him he'd won the lottery.
"Really?" he asked.
"Yeah really.....get this place cleaned up and go to work." I said.
Dex reached out and took the joint out of his hand. With one smooth move, he lit it and took a big hit.
"Damn son....this is rag weed!" he coughed. "I'd rather go to jail than smoke this shit!"
Dex tossed the joint into the gas grill where it quickly ignited and burned up.
"Are you gonna bust me?" he asked Dex.
"Are you gonna sue?" Dex asked.
"Then you ain't going to jail." Dex told him.
"Thanks." Allan was regaining his compusure and wiping his eyes.
"Just get to work and everything's cool but first, go the rest room and clean yourself up." I told him. "I'll get Patsy to get you a clean t-shirt."
Finally, with the crisis over, I went back to the main room. Patsy was sitting beside Elizabeth and after I filled them in, I asked her to go to the storeroom and get Allan a new Carl's Corner t-shirt.
"Do I charge him for it?" she asked.
"No, I think he'd slash his friggin' wrists if we made him pay for it." I laughed.
"You're pretty damned free with my fuckin' money!" Elizabeth barked.
"Tell you what Liz....I'll make it up to you." I said. "Carla, give Liz a drink on the house."
Elizabeth looked at me and laughed.
"You are such an asshole."
"Yeah well, I do what I can." I grinned. "Gotta go make some noise."
With that, I went to the stage where I found Tony talking to a little Asian looking girl.
"You ready to get busy?" I asked.
He looked at me and smiled.
"Hell yeah." he said and turned to the girl. "Are you gonna hang around?" he asked her.
"If you guys are any good I will." she smiled.
"Well hell, you'll be here all night!" he bragged.
Just as we took the stage, Josef came up to me and whispered.
"I vish you to break zeir legs."
"I think you mean, 'break a leg' dude." I couldn't help but laugh.
He looked indignant.
"Is vaht I said...break all zeir legs." he said, pointing to the crowd.
"We're gonna have to work on your English big guy." I patted him on his shoulder.
"How many language you speaks?" he asked.
"Shit man, I ain't even got English down pat yet." I said.
"Pat? Who iss ziss Pat?" he asked.
"Never mind Josef." I laughed. "How many languages do you speak?"
"Five language I speak and, of zim all, English is one zat is sucks zee best." he said as he stormed off and took his position at the door.
Tony looked at me with a grin.
"You ain't gonna catch me correcting that big sumbitch's English skills."
Patsy turned down the house lights and fired up the stage lights.
Unlike most musicians, I've never liked talking a lot before playing. I don't know why but I've always preferred to simply launch into the first song and see what happens. I've heard some great bands play some great shit but....no one was there to listen.
They were there to party. Period.
So....we just fired it up.
I remember that the first song we played was 'Already Gone' by the Eagles and, from the first lick on the guitar, they loved us!!
After the song was over, we got a tremendous ovation and, after it died down, Tony and I couldn't help but laugh.
This was gonna be a great place to play!
I welcomed everyone to the new Carl's Corner, introduced ourselves and we immediatly went from one song to the next for over an hour.
The place was hopping and we were eating it up.
Finally, we took a break. We were sweating like field hands and in dire need of some fresh air.
As we left the stage, a bunch of folks came up to us, they were shaking hands and complimenting us.
Out of nowhere it seemed, Josef waded through the crowd and began acting like a friggin' Secret Service agent!
The big sumbitch damn near knocked over a couple of people while getting to us.
I couldn't believe the way he was behaving.
"Josef!" I shouted at him. "Chill out big guy...it's ok. Leave 'em alone."
He turned and looked at me as though I had insulted him.
Without a word, he did an about face and walked back to the front door where, I assumed he would return to 'parade rest' but instead, he yanked the door open and left!
I went after him.
As I walked out the door, I saw him climbing into his little Toyota pick up truck.
"Josef!" I yelled.
He ignored me so, I hustled over to the driver side. The window was open.
"Hey dude, what's the matter?" I asked.
He stared straight ahead but said nothing.
"C'mon Josef...I didn't mean to piss you off but those folks were just being friendly. They didn't mean any harm." I explained.
He still didn't even look at me, much less answer me.
"You're not gonna talk to me?" I asked.
Finally, he took a deep breath and looked at me.
"You tell me, Josef.. 'you don speak English pretty good'. You tell me not to do vhat you pay me for to do. I say, 'fuck dis and fuck all zee horses to ride on!' " he shouted.
The only thing that kept me from laughing my ass off was the fact that this refrigerator with a head was seriously pissed off!
"Look man, I'm sorry." I started. "I didn't mean to piss you off. I'm an asshole."
"You fuckin' me right up zee asshole you sorry!" he snarled.
Well shit, I'm only human so, naturally, I friggin' lost it! I started laughing.
I couldn't help myself.
Here was this friggin' giant sitting in his tiny little truck looking like it would take the jaws of life to get his big ass out of the damn thing and, on top of that, he was butchering the English language in ways I'd never heard before.
"Fuckin' me right up the asshole!!"
You just don't hear that shit everyday unless you live in San Francisco!
If he had been holding a freakin' Ghinsu knife on my testicles, I would be singing Mariah Carey songs today....note for note!!
I could NOT help myself, I was laughing so hard I was having trouble taking a breath.
Yeah, it was real funny UNTIL he came out of the truck like a ballet dancer on steriods!
"You laughing zee fuck at me?" he roared.
Damn, he did it again!
If he would just stop talking, I could stop laughing but, he Did and....I did'nt!
I couldn't help myself.
He started toward me as I backed away trying to control my laughter.
"Josef, hold on man. I'm not laughing at you!" I shouted.
"Vhat you zen laughing at?" he demanded.
This guy was HUGE and PISSED but....he kept talking and, for some strange reason, I couldn't stop laughing long enough to calm him down!!
Desperately, I held both hands out in front of me in the internationally recognized gesture, "Please Don't Kill Me....I'm a Fucking MORON!"
Thankfully, he stopped in his tracks and glared at me.
I finally regained my compusure for a second. Taking a deep breath, I opened my mouth to speak but, as luck would have it....he spoke first.
"I'm up to here vith you in my ass!" he shouted.
There are times in your life when you wish that the good Lord had created you WITHOUT a funny bone.
You know these times.....farts in church, a fat woman in a thong walking in close proximity at the beach or, a guy talking to you at a funeral while wearing a crooked wig!
It's a lot like quelching a sneeze in a friggin' pepper warehouse!!
It cannot be done.
Back To The Story......
Naturally, I collapsed to one knee in the parking lot and was lost in convulsions of laughter.
This guy was KILLING me even though, he was quite capable of LITERALLY killing me at any moment!
Still......I could NOT stop laughing!
To Be Continued Ya'll......big day tomorrow.