Craven Gets Flashed VIII

Delaney’s was sprinkled with its usual mid day barstool denizens: Mel, Joey, and an assortment of guys who just got fired.

“What can I get you ladies?” said the bartender.”

“Two chilled vodka martinis, Ned, and keep ‘em coming.”

“Will do, Mildred. By the way, I never got an invite to that wake of yours, so I’m guessing you ain’t dead yet. Either that, or those whiskey’s finally caught up with me and I’m catching up with you on the other side. If so, I’m not too impressed. I was hoping for something a little less seedy, and maybe a brunette in a fig leaf. Five feet six, 36-24-36, like it was in the beginning. But somehow the Garden of Eden doesn’t come to mind as I take in the wonders of nature surrounding me in this paradise of a dive. Excuse me a moment, ladies. Hey, Mel! You take a whiz in that telephone booth again and you’re banned for life! And don’t you wave that empty milk bottle at me! You wait your turn for the toilet like everyone else! Sorry ladies. Like I was saying. . . Geez, what the hell was I sayin’?”

“Something about fig leaves, Ned,” said Mildred, “And please say hello to Betty.”

“Hello, Betty. Glad to know ya.”

“Hi, ya, Ned. Excuse me for asking, but how is it you come to know Eve’s hair color and measurements?”

“Please excuse me for just one more moment, ladies. Hey, Joey! You play Chattanooga Choo Choo one more time and I’ll be feeding you nickels the hard way! Play something nice. A little Billie Holiday would do wonders to soothe my nerves right about now. I’ll even give you the nickel. Thanks in advance. Sorry, Betty. There’s only so much a guy with a hangover can take this early in the day, and the Chatanooga Choo Choo ain’t on the list. Where was I?”

“Garden of Eden,” said Betty, “with a shapley brunette name of Eve.”

“Yeah. That’s right. I first saw Eve in a picture book that Sister Eleanor kept in her desk drawer, but it was off limits to us kids. She’d sometimes take the book out and gush over it while we were doing our cursive exercises. From the look on her face as she sat there entranced, I figured it was something worth looking at myself, even if it meant getting the business end of her mighty oak pointer. But it turned out to be worth it. One morning, when the sister was turned sideways to shed more light on the picture she was smacking her lips over, I took a forbidden peek through my fingers and got a good look at what the fuss was about. And holy Moses! I never saw anyone so naked and beautiful in my life. It was love at first sight. So one day while Sister Eleanor was busy hangin’ Pissy McCann’s wet underwear from a flag pole outside our classroom window, I tore Eve’s picture out of that book.

“I named her Mabel. I figured if I changed her name I wouldn’t be smited for thinking the things I was thinking. I kept all to myself all these many years.”

“Is there a point to all this?” said a guy who just got fired. “ I’m getting thirsty over here.”

“It’s a good thing you just got canned from the brewery, Otto. Otherwise I’d point you to the front door. But since I got the milk of human kindness runnin’ in every vein I say drink up, and if you’re not enjoying my conversation I suggest you get one of your own. Now where was I?”

“You were about to get Mildred and me another round,“ said Betty. “We’ll go sit in a booth, Ned. Too many diversions up here. Mildred and I have to focus on us for a moment.”

“Coming right up, Betty. Pleasure to know ya.”

“Likewise, Ned.”

“Us?”

“Yes, Mildred, us. How would you like to play detective?”

“I’m in. How would you like to get a tattoo first?”

“How many drinks does it usually take?”

“Six martinis and a rollicking taxi ride to the Village. Drink up, Betty. For tomorrow you shall wake not knowing what ye have done. Ain’t it grand?”