Dirty Blog 8

By Dick Johnson

(The Dirty Blog is based upon the idea of “What if” a career criminal decided to write a blog, just like anyone else.)

I was at Manny’s bar, where I had previously gotten a couple of jobs. One was collecting some gambling debts, and the other was following a guy’s girlfriend, and then beating up whoever might be fucking her.

Manny’s seemed like a good place, so I figured I’d hang out and see if any more work popped up.

That was when my cousin came into the bar. This was never good news. It usually meant we were going to jail.

“Mack!” He yelled from across the bar. “How the hell you been?”

“Stanley!” I yelled. “Buy me a drink!”

“Buy your own drink.” He said. “You’re the one with all the money. You got the money, and I got this big dick!” He grabbed himself for good measure.

We both laughed, because we knew it was a lie.

I bought him a beer and when the bartender wasn’t looking, Stanley handed me a flask of vodka. I took a swig and chased it with a drink of beer.

“Now the party’s started.” Stanley said.

It wasn’t too long till Stan took an interest in the ladies. Especially, a blonde at the end of the bar.

She got up and went to the bathroom, while Stan stared at her as she walked past.

“Will you look at the shitter on that critter?” Stan said. “She is hot.”

“I think she is with that guy playing pool.” I said.

“I’ll bang her and make him watch.” Stan said with a chuckle and a drink of beer.

He wasn’t lying. Stan was notorious for banging chicks behind their old man’s back, and not caring if the guy found out. I have often waited to hear that some husband or boyfriend had shot him dead. But, he always pops back up. I can tell you. I will never take any woman I want to keep around Stanley. Not if I can help it.

She came walking back, and Stan smiled at her. She smiled back. This was not good.

“Come on” Stan said.

He grabbed his beer, and moved down the bar closer to her. I went with him, because I really had no choice. What else was I supposed to do?

Stan looked at her.

“What’s your name?” He asked her.

“Heather” She said after looking around to make sure her boyfriend wasn’t watching.

God, this going bad…

“You here alone?” Stan asked.

She was slow in answering, but then she kind of covered her mouth like she was wiping something away, in an effort to hide her speech.

“No, I’m here with my boyfriend.” She said.

“But, you’re leaving with me.” Stan said, as a matter of fact.

Real bad…

She laughed. This caused the boyfriend to come over and stand next to her.

“What’s funny?” The boyfriend asked her.

“Nothing. This guy just made a joke.” Heather said.

The boyfriend looked at Stan.

“I wanna hear the joke.” The boyfriend said.

“Well, I made a joke about your tiny dick, and Heather thought it was hilarious.” Stan said.

Heather laughed, and I put my head in my hands, shaking it, because I knew a fight was coming.

“Fuck you, Dude.” Boyfriend said.

Stan stood up, and I got beside him, because well, I felt obligated.

The boyfriend held a pool stick and stepped back.

“Stay away from her.” Boyfriend said.

“I will, but I plan to fuck her first.” Stan said.

The boyfriend dropped the pool stick and took a swing at Stan. It was a drunken haymaker destined to miss.

Stan quickly shot in and got the guy in a choke hold from behind, which was Stan’s special move.

“Calm down, man.” Stan said soothingly into the guy’s ear. He was so close he might have even kissed him. The guy struggled, but Stan had him.

The bartender saw what was going on and waved to the bouncer who came over, and all three walked the boyfriend to the door. Stan shoved him out and pushed his ass with a boot to send him flying.

Stan and the bartender came back to the bar, while the bouncer yelled out the door at the boyfriend.

“Don’t come back!” The bouncer said.

“Tell my girlfriend to get out here.” The boyfriend yelled.

“Ok…Ok…I’ll tell her.” The bouncer said, and shut the door. He went back to his chair, and sat down without saying a word.

“So, what’s up?” Stan said to Heather with a big smile.

She started to answer but got a text from her boyfriend outside. She read it.

“He’s pissed. He wants me to leave.” She said.

“Let him wait.” Stan said.

She laughed.

“Ok, what should we do while he waits?” She asked.

“Come on, I’ll show you.”

Stan took her hand, and led her into a side room, where I could see them kissing. He pushed her back into the darkness of the room.

I drank my beer, while the girls cell phone buzzed angrily, over and over on the bar.

After a short time, they both came out of the room. She was pulling her skirt down and shoving her panties into her purse.

“That was quick.” I said.

“Earthquakes don’t need to take long.” Stan said, laughing.

Heather laughed.

She grabbed her phone off the bar, and then kissed Stan a passionate kiss.

He laughed, as he watched her walk out the door to meet her man.

“You’re going to get killed or get AIDS someday.” I told Stan.

“Yeah, but not today.” He said.

(Bio: Dick Johnson is a writer from St. Louis, Mo.)

Published by .

Publishing Editor for The Yard: Crime Blog.

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