Fake I.D.

It didn’t bother me at first, but then I thought about it some more and it did. I was very hurt.”

“You were hurt?”

“Yeah. I felt like I wasn’t important to you, like you were just rebounding with me, using me to get over your marriage.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Is it?”

She stared at me. Obviously, I’d hit home.

“See?” I said. “It wasn’t gonna work out anyway with us so what difference does it make?”

I started to walk away again when she said, “Tommy.”

I stopped without turning around.

She said, “I’m sorry for everything.”

“Forget about it,” I said, walking into the bar. “It’s too late.”

The lights flashed for last call. There were a bunch of drunk guys, drinking pitchers of Bud, and I sped them along, telling them they had five minutes to finish their beer.

Gary was still behind the bar, cleaning up. Sometimes he was the last one to leave and I couldn’t let that happen tonight.

“It’s all right,” I said. “I’ll clean up for you.”

He looked at me like he was surprised that I was talking to him.

“What did you do,” he said, “take some happy pills before you came to work tonight?”

“Nah,” I said, “I’m just in a good mood. Something wrong with that?”

“No, that’s cool. I wanted to head downtown to hear this band play tonight anyway.”

“Have fun.”

“You sure you don’t mind?”

“Forget about it,” I said.

“That’s really cool of you, man. I owe you one.”

Gary finished what he was doing, then he went to the back to get his coat. Now all I had to do was clear out all the customers and I could get to work.

“All right,” I said to the guys drinking pitchers, “it’s time to call it a night.”

“But we just got this pitcher,” one of the guys said.

“Sorry, we’re closing up right now,” I said.

The guys chugged their beer then put on their coats and left.

A few minutes later, Gary said “See ya” and he left too. I went and locked the door behind him. Kathy and the busboys had gone home already, but Frank was still somewhere in the bar, probably working on the books in his back office. There were also still some guys in the kitchen. But at least the whole front of the bar was empty and I didn’t know if I’d have a chance like this again.

I went behind the bar and got down on my knees. I knew the combination by heart and I knew it would only take me a few seconds to open the safe.

I fucked up the combination the first time and I had to do it again. I felt the veins in my forehead pulsing and sweat was dripping down the back of my neck. The safe didn’t open the second time either. Maybe I was screwing up the numbers. Then, on the third try, I heard a click. The door swung open.

Seeing the money gave me a head rush. I had no idea how much was there, but there were stacks of fifties, twenties, and tens—mostly twenties—wrapped in rubber bands. I grabbed a stack of twenties, but realized I had no place to put it. Fuck, I didn’t think about that. The pockets of my jeans were too tight and there were no bags lying around. Then I heard a sound—footsteps coming toward the front of the bar. I put the twenties back in the safe and shut the door quietly. The person was in the room now. I crawled to the other end of the bar so I’d be away from the safe and I stood up.

“Jesus Christ,” Frank said, taking a few steps backwards. He was breathing hard. “You just scared the living shit out of me.”

“I was just putting some bottles in the fridge,” I said.

“Well don’t pop up like that. Jesus.”

“Sorry,” I said.

“Eh, it’s all right. Actually, I’m glad you’re still here. You want to go get some breakfast with me?”

“I was just gonna head home,” I said. “I mean after I finish up here.”

“Where’s Gary?”

“Went downtown to catch a band.”

Frank rolled his eyes. “Come on, we’ll finish that up tomorrow when we open. I really wish you’d just come out with me. I’m losing my mind and I need somebody to talk to. Food’s on me.”

I couldn’t rob the safe tonight anyway—not after Frank saw me crawling around behind the bar—so I told him I’d go. I went to the back to wash up and get my jacket. I couldn’t believe I didn’t have that money. I could still feel the stack of bills in my hand and I could still see Andrew Jackson’s face on the twenties. Some banks were open on Saturdays—maybe Frank was going to make a deposit tomorrow morning. This might’ve been my one shot at getting the money and I blew it.

We took a cab to the Green Kitchen on the corner of Seventy-seventh and First. Frank once told me how he’d been going there for twenty years and how it was his favorite diner in New York. As usual on a weekend night, the place was packed with the drunken spillover from the nearby bars. There were mostly preppy college kids, assholes who couldn’t handle their liquor, carrying on, trying to pick up the tired, haggard waitresses. Frank and I sat at a table for two on the side, next to the windows. Frank ordered a cup of coffee and a piece of apple pie. I was famished, and since the meal was on Frank anyway, I decided to pig out. I ordered pancakes, scrambled eggs, hash browns, sausage, bacon, and a side order of French toast.

Frank went on and on, talking about Debbie. At first, I was zoning out, still pissed off about missing out on the chance of getting that money. Then I caught on as Frank was saying:

“...I mean how much longer can it go on like this? I think I’ve been very patient, as patient as anybody could be under the circumstances. I’ve tried to make her see a shrink, but she won’t go. It’s like all she cares about is making my life miserable.”

“Dump her,” I said.

“I’m going to,” he said, “but it’s not so easy. “We’ve been together a long time—seven years.”

“You wanna be married to her for seven more years?”

“No—of course not.”

“Then tell her you want a divorce. Don’t even think about it anymore. Just do it.”

“You’re right,” he said. “That’s what I’m gonna do—soon.”

The waitress came with our food. I dug in, blocking out Frank again. I was so hungry I think I might’ve sucked in some bacon strips through my nose. But I started listening again when Frank said:

“So here’s my offer to you, Tommy. After I divorce Debbie I’m gonna want a change of scenery. I don’t think I’m ready to go into the sunset, but getting some sun might not be a bad idea. I’m sick of these cold fucking winters—I figure I might give Arizona a shot. I know I can’t trust Gary to run the bar and I think you’ve got a bigger head for business than him anyway. But there’s a condition involved—I’m not gonna turn over the bar to you just like that. You have to prove that you’ve quit gambling, and I mean really quit. No more going to the racetrack or taking trips to Atlantic City. I’m not gonna give you my bar for you to blow all the money at the track. You go cold turkey or there’s no deal.”

“But what about my acting career?” I asked.

“This is just something to fall back on,” he said. “If you get your big break and make it in Hollywood you can say sayonara and I’ll get somebody else to take over. Believe me, I’ll have no problem doing that. I just think you’re a good guy and you deserve a chance to be successful and I want to help you any way I can. So what do you say? Will you do it?”

“You mean it?” I said. “You’re really gonna retire?”

“I never said the word ‘retire.’ Let’s just call it a permanent vacation. I’ll probably come back and forth to New York and, who knows, maybe I’ll open an Irish bar in Arizona.”

“Man, I can’t believe this,” I said. “You’re really asking me to run O’Reilley’s?”