A Momen with Holden

           I wasn’t sure why the goddam room got so goddam hot all of a sudden. It was like someone had wrapped the whole stinking thing up in tinfoil and stuck it in an oven like a potato or something, it was that hot. My armpits started to work up this terrible sweat. Somewhere above, this rusty ceiling fan was spinning around and around. Slowest thing I ever saw. It kept on stirring that hot air up into even hotter air and all these guys in the bar kept loosening their collars and sneaking looks around as though they were checking to see if some random furnace had appeared or something. I had half a mind to take off my old jacket but this real nasty looking pack of girls over at the counter were sorta giving me eyes and I didn’t want to give them anything to look at. There really wasn’t much of a reason for me to keep sticking around, but I didn’t have anything better to do tonight. This nervous little guy over in the corner kept sneaking these nervous glances around like it was his first time in a bar or something. It probably was, too. He looked a little younger than me even, real skinny and straight like a piece of dried spaghetti. Some fat blonde was talking his ear off, and every time he said something back to her she would shove him in the ribs and kinda start shaking with her face all screwed up. Every once in a while she put her hand on his shoulder and pulled his face down to hers to whisper something super-secret in his ear. Then he would stroke his chin in thought. He had a real weak chin, kind of small like a baby’s, but he had the goatee of a fully grown man. That killed me.

            I watched the two of them for a little, but after while it started getting so hot in that goddam place that I couldn’t really concentrate anymore. My eyes kept drifting over to the dance floor. I was sitting at this kind of dingy little table on this sticky chair that kept wobbling around on its goddam legs every time I took a drink or breathed or something. There was sort of a crowd blocking my view of the band and all, but I could make out Jane Gallagher over near the right of the dance floor. I couldn’t really see her face or anything seeing as the room was so dark and all, but I could tell she was really putting it in. That blue and white dress she was wearing kept flouncing around and her arms were moving all in time with the band and everything. She kept smiling at Al Pike. She was going around with him now, apparently. Old Al was some swim captain or something. I’d seen him do some dives once at a school competition. He was pretty well built, I’ll give him that. Nine times out of ten, though, you take someone all good looking and they have a terrible personality. Practically every good looking person I met turned out to be really lousy. Old Jane would never date someone lousy though, so Al was probably alright.

            But then I began to wonder if maybe Al Pike was lousy after all, and everyone just thought he was okay. Maybe he was just good at hiding it. I decided I’d better find out if he was a lousy bastard, so that I could warn old Jane about him. All the lousy bastards I’ve met have one thing in common, and that’s the way they talk. They talk like the whole goddam thing is about them. Can’t get them to shut up about themselves. I figured I might as well have a chat with old Al, just to figure out if he was a lousy bastard after all. So when old Jane left to go to the bathroom and Al Pike went on over to the bar for a drink, I squeezed my way through the crowd and came up a little ways across from him. “Al Pike,” I said, “How’ve you been doing?”

Old Al didn’t hear me though; he had his nose buried in a glass of something. He was really putting it away and a crazy little red white and blue umbrella was practically digging into his cheek. I almost left right then, seeing as he didn’t hear me and all, but I didn’t. “Hey Al,” I said again, when he put down his drink. “How’ve you been?”

Al looked over at me then. “Oh hey. Mike…its Michael, right?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Hey listen, real nice job with that diving the other day.” I figured that’d get him talking about himself.

            “Oh yeah. Thanks Mike.”

“Yeah. Really got my girl going. Lucinda’s really got an eye for these sorts of things. Her dad used to coach and all.”

That got his attention all right. He finally wiped that goddam juice or whatever crazy thing he was drinking off his chin. ‘Oh yeah? Lucinda who? I might know her.”

Lucinda who. That killed me. “Lucinda Codbaloney,” I said. “Real nice and blonde and all. She was at that swim meet and all. Her father’s old Coach Codbalony but everyone just calls him old Codbaloney. You know old Codbaloney?”

            “Sure I do,” said Al. Old Jane Gallagher had come out of the bathroom now. “Hey listen Mike, let Lucinda know I’d be happy to show her a thing or two on the diving board, seeing as she’s so experienced and all.” Al was digging through his ratty faux leather wallet for some money to pay for his orange juice. “Tell her to give me a call Mike, okay Mike?” And then he pulled out a goddam business card with his goddam name printed on it and everything.
“I gotta go, Mike, but let’s catch up some time soon, eh Mike?” He was craning his neck around, trying not to lose sight of old Jane. “Take it easy, Mike.”

I sat at the bar and watched that lying bastard make his way back over to feel up Jane Gallagher. I would have gone over and punched him out but I didn’t think old Jane would appreciate that too much, so I just ordered a drink instead. I didn’t even care that it was so goddam hot anymore. I just couldn’t believe old Jane could go around with someone like that. I guess most people just really couldn’t tell the lying bastards from the rest. I figured I’d better warn Jane that Al Pike was a lying bastard. Real conceited too. I’d let her know tomorrow or something. I could always tell when someone was just phony. I could spot a phony a mile away. And Al Pike was the phoniest liar of them all. Phony bastard.