Page 1 of Baby Blue
It was a Tuesday night just like every other Tuesday night in Blue Wallace’s world. “Key of D. Just watch me for the changes, okay?” As soon as Byron, the drummer, tapped out the rhythm, Blue hit the strings on his old bass. Less than thirty seconds passed before Devon and Gary had managed to get in sync with him and away they went on the old cover song. Damn, Blue hated playing those things, but it was money in the bank at the run-down bars they played on weekends.
Two more songs and they were finished for the night. “Thanks, guys. Good practice.”
“We playing The Hilltop Inn this weekend?” Byron asked. They’d just about run out of places to play in Bryan, Georgia. Regardless the fact that it was part of the Macon metropolitan area, it was still a small place?too small for a bunch of guys trying to make a dollar.
“Yeah, and Kilroy’s next weekend. The weekend after that…” Blue stopped. “Gary, where are we two weekends from now?”
“Rumpshakers.”
“Shit, I hate that name,” Byron mumbled under his breath.
“Takes everything I have just to say it out loud,” Devon added.
“Yeah, but money’s money, although I think they’d have bigger crowds if the name wasn’t so fucking stupid. I mean, who’s going to say, ‘Hey, wanna go to Rumpshakers tonight?’ Damn ridiculous,” Blue said and snickered. “Anyway, meet here next Tuesday?” Everyone nodded. “See you then.” He headed to his old pickup and turned out onto the street, rolling toward home.
Wednesday morning was horrible. Mr.Wentworth wanted his Cadillac serviced immediately. No one could seem to make him understand that there were other cars in line before his?no, he wanted his done right that minute.
Turner bellowed, “What the fuck are you doing?” as he passed Blue, who was working as fast as he could on Mr.Wentworth’s car.
“I’m doing his service.”
“He has to wait his turn.”
“Look,” Blue argued, turning his face to Turner, “the guy’s a good customer. He’s in here at least every other week, most of the time wanting cosmetic shit done to his car. He pays good money.”
“You mean tips good money,” Turner corrected.
“Whatever, man! Hell, he’s a good customer. If someone else has to wait a few minutes more, that’ll be okay. I’m doing his service right now.” Blue went back to work and listened to Turner muttering as he walked away. What Blue was doing was just good business, no way around it. They could lose threeoccasional customers and wouldn’t feel the sting, but losing Mr.Wentworth would hurt and hurt badly.
Lunch came and Blue looked in his pocket: Thirty-seven cents and a mint from a fast-food joint. “Hey, Turdbucket!” he yelled toward Turner, using his favorite pet name for the cantankerous owner. “Where’s my tip from Wentworth?”
Turner wandered past him and held out a twenty. “Fucking service was only twenty-nine dollars and he tipped you twenty. What the hell? You blowing that old fucker on the side?”
“Watch your mouth, asshole. I won’t be taking that kind of shit from you,” Blue barked. “He appreciates my work. Is that so fucking hard to believe?”
“Maybe.” Blue watched Turner’s back recede into the office and then the door slammed shut. At least he’d have some lunch and if that door stayed closed, maybe some peace and quiet.
As soon as he got off work at the shop, Blue made his way straight to Hotel Elsinore. It wasn’t a hotel, just a bar, and he’d never really understood why Max had named it that. Stupid name for a bar, that and Rumpshakers. God. Stupid people everywhere.
Two beers in and he and Frank from down the street were having a spirited conversation about the TennesseeTitans and the GreenBay Packers. The only thing that kept it from being a fight was the absence of fists, and it degraded to that in about fifteen minutes. It took Max and his trusty baseball bat to stop that, and Blue and Frank spent the rest of the evening glaring at each other.
Ten minutes before last call, a girl Blue had never seen wandered up and sat down beside him. “Almost time to go, huh?” she murmured with a smile.
“Yeah, looks like it.” Blue took the last swallow off his mug.
“Looking for some company?” she asked, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously.
“Sure. Whaddya have in mind?” Blue slurred, feeling pretty damn lucky.
The girl grinned. “Wanna go back to your place?”
Oh, holy hell, it’s my lucky day!Blue told himself. He hadn’t gotten laid in over a week, and that last one didn’t count. It was only a blow job, although he had to admit, it was a good one. Shame he couldn’t remember the woman’s name. Oh, well, she was a little older than he really liked, so it didn’t matter. “Sounds good. Let me pay my tab.” When he pulled out his wallet, he knew he didn’t have enough cash, so he just threw down what he had left, grabbed the girl around the waist, and moved toward the door.
“Hey, Blue, get your ass back here!” Max called out. “That doesn’t cover it!”
Blue just waved behind him. “I’ll settle up Friday.”
He could hear Max mumbling as he walked out, “I should’ve let Frank beat the shit out of you.” Blue just chuckled.
