Six Bad Things

tattoos and I didn’t get the job. I’m tall enough and I have the tits and ass and I can dance, but once they get a look at my tattoos they say no go, and it costs a hundred times as much to get the things taken off as it does to have them put on. Fuckin’ tattoos.

She climbs into the front seat, now dressed in faded blue jeans, black Doc Martens, and a black AC/DC tank top.

– What else is Terry into, baby? What else does he do?

She wipes her eyes.

– Mostly he deals. He works for some people, I don’t know. The people he gets his grass from. And sometimes he does other stuff for them, like collections and stuff.

– What about the Russians? Do they know who I am? Do you know who I am?

She looks at me sideways.

– You’re Wade?

I let it go.

– Why was Terry there with those clowns?

– Because I called him.

– When?

– After we talked at the club, before I asked for a lift. I called Terry and told him you were looking for Timmy, and he told me to get you guys good and fucked-up and get you to come back to my house. But. But. But. You didn’t come, and I went back with T anyway and I told him to leave the dog in the car, but he wouldn’t, and then I said to put him in the garage, but he wouldn’t, but he locked him in the bathroom in my room, in the master bedroom and then I got him to lie on the bed and handcuffed him to the frame like I was gonna strip for him, and then Terry came in and started asking T about Timmy, why he was looking for Timmy and who you were and why you were looking for Timmy, and T didn’t know anything, and Terry, he had those hicks with him, and they started beating on T. And. And. And. I like T. I didn’t want him to get hurt. And. And. And.

She’s gasping for breath.

– Easy, take it easy.

She rubs the heels of her hands into her eyes.

– Terry made me call you to try and get you to come over, but you wouldn’t, and that pissed him off, and he was also pissed because T and the dog wouldn’t shut up and the dog wouldn’t stop barking and he couldn’t do anything about the dog, but T was carrying a bunch of ludes and Terry forced a few down T’s throat and that knocked him out. And then. And then? And then we didn’t expect you until six or so and Terry had those fucking guys with him and he had been, he met them at Circus Circus and was supposed to set them up with a couple hookers and when he got the call from me he asked if they wanted to make a couple bucks instead and they had gotten wiped out at the craps table so they went out to their truck and got that gun and that bow thing and Terry drove them over in his Cruiser and we had to wait for you and they were bored and wanted to leave and they thought I was a hooker and wanted Terry to make something happen for them and they kept grabbing at me and Terry made me give them all of T’s crank and my Veuve and then you just showed up. And? And?

She runs a hand through her hair.

– God, I love Percs. Got any more?

– Later. What happened when we showed up?

– Nothing. Oh, except Terry got pissed again, but he’s always getting pissed and flexing his muscles like he invented them. I mean, he’s mostly an OK guy, but he was really bad today because nothing was working the way he wanted it to and that’s like one of his big things, bitching about how things don’t work the way they’re supposed to. Also? He has those guys there to show off in front of and he was doing crank and he’s already high-strung from the ’roids so that wasn’t a great idea and then you show up and I look out the peephole and you have those guys and he was all Nothing works the way it’s supposed to, and then he told me to only let you in, but you brought those guys and…

She shrugs. That was that.

– Besides, I think he’s scared of the Russian.

Who isn’t?

– What about the Russian? What do you know?

– Nothing. Except Terry’s bosses told him to help out finding Timmy, so he called him, the Russian, after I called about you, and he told Terry to get ahold of you, and Terry called him from my place to say you’d be there around six, and then after you showed up early, he called him again to say you were there. I think. But that’s all I know.

I look at her.

She doesn’t know anything. She doesn’t even know who I am. And if she did? All she could tell anyone is that I’m in Vegas. And it seems that everyone already knows that. I reach across her and unlock her door.

– You can go.

Her jaw drops.

– And do what? Go home? I’m not going back to that place. And who knows who’ll find me if I go to the club? So fuck you, Wade. You kidnapped me and you are fucking stuck with me. You’re the pro, you’re the one who knows what you’re doing, so I’m sticking with you until those psychos you let in my house are out of the picture.

She puts on her seat belt.

– So what now?

She’s right. If Rolf and Sid get their hands on her there’s no telling… The carnage at her house strobes through my head. The carnage I brought there. I don’t want to imagine what they would do to her. But I do. Sandy is my problem now.

I start the car.

– We need a hideout.

She stretches.

– Oooh yeah, I could get behind some sleep.

– Where?

She yawns.

– I know a place.

THE ROOM at the El Cortez has cable. I sprawl sleepless on my bed and watch the Chargers and Broncos go at it.

The teams of the AFC West have been unstoppable this season. Coming into this week, the Raiders and Chargers are locked with unreal 13-1 records and both have clinched at least a Wild Card. Each has lost a game to the other and has an identical division record, but San Diego has a slight edge in their conference record. That’s why Rolf and Sid are so eager to have my Fins top the Raiders on Sunday. If the Raiders lose and the Chargers win, San Diego will clinch the division championship.

Of more concern to me are the Broncos. At 11-3 they still have an outside shot at the West, but only if they beat San Diego and Miami beats Oakland. Even if they lose the last two games, Denver is primed for the remaining Wild Card spot. I desperately need them to lose tonight to keep that Wild Card door open for the Fins, because the 11-3 Jets are playing miserable Detroit this week. So if Denver wins and New York beats Detroit and Miami loses, NY will lock up the AFC East division title and Miami will miss the playoffs entirely. Again.

All of these playoff contortions are yet another reason why I hate football, and hate myself even more for having been sucked into caring about it. I hate the NFL for creating Wild Cards, and I hate it even more for having spread that madness to baseball. It used to all be so easy, the best team in each division plays in the postseason. Now? Chaos. Don’t get me started.

The game kicks off.

Denver has the top passing offense in the NFL and San Diego has the top rushing offense. It should be a good, close game. Sure enough, the Broncs pick the Charger’s secondary to pieces, and the Chargers roll over the Bronc’s defensive line. By halftime it’s SD 21, DEN 24. Then it gets weird.

The Broncs put up another field goal in the third quarter to stretch the lead to six, but their nine-time Pro Bowl kicker comes off the field limping and word quickly hits the broadcast booth that he has torn his hamstring.