The Cantina was aglow with Christmas lights. The crowds were steady and the Cantina?s Christmas Party a wild hit. Marko looked over the parking lot with satisfaction and mild concern. He watched the Cantina business grow, but wasn?t sure he liked it. Ambition carried an ugly side, and he knew he?d come face to face with it. For the time being the holidays were warm and rosy.
The new girl, Sheila, flitted out of her car toward the employee entrance and glared at Marko. He wouldn?t afford her extra shifts and busted her hanging in the parking lot behind the restaurant, dealing meth.
Buster rolled into the parking lot on his hot rod Sportster, and parked it as close to the front door as possible. It was damn close to New Years as he slid up to the bar and ordered an O?Doul?s. He?d been clean and sober for five years. As a kid he ran with Los Angeles street gangs and almost pulled a felony beef at 16.
The early afternoon sun was still high in the sky as bubbly Nyla darted around the bar cleaning and restocking for the afternoon rush.
?Hey Buster,? Nyla said. ?What?s on your plate for 2006.?
Buster shuffled in his stool, dismayed and sipped at the icy beer. ?I don?t know,? Buster said. ?I?m sorta lost.?
Nyla wore her regular fluffy Mexican git-up that allowed her large soft breasts to dance at the edge of her areoles and tantalize all who watched her move. Everything about Nyla screamed sex, from her rosy lips and never-ending quirky smile, to those luscious tits and a soft as satin round ass that swayed as if a lure at the end of a fisherman?s line. ?Whatta ya mean,? Nyla bounced. ?What rocks yer boat??
?I?m pissed,? Buster said. ?I don?t git high anymore. I?ve got an ol? lady and a kid, so I can?t fool around and I?m too poor to do anything to pump my adrenaline except watch football or ride my bike fast. Shit, then I?ll get a ticket. It ain?t right.?
?I don?t get it,? Nyla said. ?Aren?t you satisfied with your life, your kids. Doesn?t mama rock your boat??
?It?s all mixed up,? Buster said as Nyla leaned over the deep sink and revealed a cleavage to die for. ?Look at you. I?d love to climb over this bar right now and do you on the deck. What rocks your boat, Nyla, teasing every guy and girl who walks in this joint??
?I?m not sure,? Nyla stammered and her cute round cheeks turn crimson.
?I?ve been doing some reading,? Buster said, ?And the doctors agree with my feelings. We?re tying men down. We?re monsters who need sex and the rush of adrenaline. You need shelter and comfort.?
?Wait a minute,? Nyla said, ?Is that true??
?Listen,? Buster said and the frustration rose in his voice. ?When I make love to a woman, I?m dancing along her skin, over those luscious curves, and down those silky thighs, without one thought of whether she?ll have a job tomorrow. Why the hell do you think some guy, who has a rich wife, runs off with the maid? Think about it. Why are you so happy here?
?You men are fulla shit,? Mandy said bouncing past Buster on the outside of the bar.
?They?re only fulla shit, until you land one,? Buster said. ?It?s the nemesis of woman, other women. But the competition is not the answer. We need to understand men and make safe sex available, so they don?t seduce other women, destroy marriages, families and attack young innocent girls.?
?What the fuck are you talking about,? Tina said and set her tray down on the long oak bar counter. Buster was surrounded.
?Women made prostitution illegal,? Buster said. ?What if a man could afford to get laid when he needed it, not when the wife was up for it. He?d be a happy camper, not run off with his secretary or attack some kid.?
?That?s bullshit,? Mandy said and Buster felt the female heat growing at his back.
Clay, the Cantina blues drunk looked up from his fifth Corona and blinked his half-shut eyes. He was as down as a flat tire and enjoyed groveling in his pity. He listened to the growing heat surrounding Buster until he could take it no more. ?It?s all about greed,? Clay slurred. ?Think about it. Men aren?t the only greedy sex. Women designed the trap, so you can only go to one for sex. How ridiculous is that??
?Shut up, Clay,? Tina said glaring at Clay and his line- up of empties.
?He?s right,? Buster said. ?Take me for instance. I?m married and have a couple of kids. I?m in a monogamous relationship. The old lady used me to have the kids. I?m not supposed to have sex with anyone else and only sex with her, when she?s up for it. She ain?t up for it very often with a job and two kids to handle. And my natural being could go for sex a couple of times a day.?
?Basically she eliminated any implied competition,? Clay muttered not wanting to raise the girls? ire, but defend a brother. ?She can get fat and still turn him down, because it?s against the monogamous creed to find an alternate sexual source.?
?Yeah,? Buster said feeling backed into a corner. ?Shit, most guys won?t talk about it in front of women. Don?t want to set ?em on fire to destroy their chances.?
?We do it for the kids, the family structure,? Tina said and gathered her drink order.
?It?s in direct conflict with the Sherman Antitrust Act,? Clay said. ?It?s against the law to outlaw the competition.?
Buster ignored Clay?s intellect. He didn?t know Antitrust Acts from parking tickets. ?So if someone said you can?t have kids because the population was out of hand,? Buster commented to Tina. ?Would you just ignore your natural inclination?? Buster wasn?t a dummy, and he was hell bent to make his point. Besides he was as horny as a mountain goat after the spring thaw.
?It?s ridiculous,? Clay chimed in. ?Look at how you?re dressed. ?You?re living, breathing, towers of temptation. You even smell good enough to eat.?
Nyla was getting aroused. Her cheeks were flushed as she watched Tina and Mandy circle in on Buster, their tits heaving against their light blouses.
Marko, patrolling the premises strolled past on occasion and checked out the action. ?Back to your stations, Ladies,? Marko ordered watching Sheila work a particular booth in a dark corner full of blacks in suits. They wore enough bling to make an Arabian Sheik proud. They might as well silk screen Drug Dealers across their backs. Sheila made runs to their tables, then to others in the dining area. Then the suits disappeared. Later in the evening they returned.
Marko noted that the restrooms had longer lines than the ATM, and the ATM machine ran out of cash more often. Drink orders increased, but food orders diminished. The chat throughout the dining room heightened and a new crowd filed in. Couple of older bikers looked at Marko with knowing grins, stares and some contempt.
Frankie showed up in the early evening on his bicycle and parked it out back. ?What?s with those Mexican folks,? he said in his contemptuous, longing manner. Frankie was getting old. A retired street urchin, he?d lived in alleys most of his life as an alcoholic and drug addict. The bastard was fried. All he knew was what hit him in the eyes. He never thought beyond the surface, but still he had a good heart and cared about his surroundings. Trouble was he?d polish a car as it was towed to the junkyard. ?Those people live out back. I?ve worked here longer, where?s my digs??
Marko looked down at the baseball mitt leathery face and shook his head. He watched a couple tip Sheila a twenty after buying two glasses of wine and the argument building around the bar. He knew about the growing family of illegal aliens taking up residence behind the Cantina. He thought about the letter he received in the morning mail recruiting him to run a security operation on the outskirts of Baghdad. He could make 25 grand a month, easy, but it was dangerous duty?that enticed him.
His buzzer went off and he unsnapped his walkie- talkie from his waistband. ?Luna,? Marko said, ?What?s up??
?This limo has made three trips and the sun ain?t down,? Luna said and watched the limo make a drop and cruise out of the parking lot.
?Thanks,? Marko said. Let me know when they return. Ballsy bunch. They must be hurtin? for locations.?
?There was a major bust across town, last week,? Luna said.
?You don?t say,? Marko said?
Sheila looked hot, the only bodacious blonde in the joint, dropping a couple of dime baggies on a table, in the open, as she sold some. Mandy spotted the loose transaction. ?You better be careful cutie,? Mandy said. ?The boss don?t go for drug dealing here.?
?I?m protected,? Sheila, said and her store-bought titties bounced unhampered under her blouse. ?I can do whatever I want. I?m fuckin? golden.? Tweakin? she looked at Mandy like a hungry bitch. ?What are you doing later? I?m bi ya know?? She started to walk toward Mandy seductively swaying her hips. No doubt, she was as hot as a firecracker with a quarter fuse.
An hour passed. During happy hour the long shore man crowd came and went with their supply of speed for the night shift and a new crowd replaced them while Charlie Brechtal?s band set up and started filling the night with biker tunes and the blues. They had a particularly hot tune called the 5-Ball blues about broads and marriage that hit home with a lot of bikers. Even married broads liked the lyrics and kidded their old men.
The red buzzer went off for the first time all year under Nyla?s bar top. She picked up the red phone, ?Yes sir,? she said respectfully in the receiver. She hung up within a couple of seconds and motioned for Sheila to come to the bar. ?The boss wants you upstairs.?
?I?ve never met him,? Sheila said staring at Nyla?s big bubbly tits. She was buzzed. ?What?s he like? Will he order me to blow him? I could have him fucked up.? Sheila was on a roll.
Nyla just shook her head then pointed toward the stairs. ?Set your tray down here. I?ll watch your ticket book. Now git.?
Sheila knocked on the thick oak door with a brass porthole mounted at eye level. ?Come in,? a deep voice ordered.
Sheila walked into the large open apartment and immediately saw Bandit standing behind his Panhead desk. He was 6?5?, but she couldn?t make out his face. He was just big in the darkness. He sat down and started working on his computer. She couldn?t make him out in the darkness and his desk lamp was pointed at her. She could see the light of the harbor behind him through the big glass window, but nothing in-between. ?Sit down,? Bandit said.
?What can I do for you,? Sheila said and began to babble. ?I like it here, but I could go anywhere and make twice as much money. You know, San Pedro ain?t the most happening berg in LA. Shit, it?s the only harbor dump around. I could go to Long Beach or back to Hollywood.?
?Would you like a line,? Bandit said and pushed a small mirror in her direction with a three-inch solid gold straw tinkling against the glass as it rolled.
?Sure,? Sheila said and bent over the glass desk revealing her overt cleavage, her blue eyes sparkling in the reflection off the mirror and glass. The speed was strong and bit at the back of her nostrils, then dripped down the back of her neck.
?What do you drink,? Bandit asked and turned toward his bar?
?I like Lemon-Drop martinis,? Sheila said, ? and gold Cadillac Margaritas.
?How about Chevas on the rocks,? Bandit interrupted?
?That?s fine,? Sheila said and tried to shut up, but couldn?t. ?What?s up? Did someone tell you that I?m dealing? Yeah, so what. People dealin? all over town. You don?t have a problem with it do you? I?m afraid I can?t do anything about it. I got debts and a bad ass boss??
?Who?s your boss,? Bandit interrupted again?
?You know, don?t you,? Sheila said? ?He?s Dwight. He controls this entire area.?
?He doesn?t control me,? Bandit said. ?If I?m going to have drug dealing in my Gin Joint, I want to make the profit. You?re an aspiring entrepreneur and seem to know what you?re doing. Let?s be partners.?
?But what about Dwight,? Sheila stammered. ?I owe him a couple of grand.?
?What?s he get from you for that money,? Bandit asked?
?He makes me blow him sometimes or some of his guys,? Sheila said calmly. ?I have to give him all the money I make each night selling speed and he gives me a little bit back.?
?Is that fair,? Bandit asked? ?Haven?t you paid your debt? A good-looking girl would get paid $400 just for a blowjob. How many joints is he working like this??
?You?re right,? Sheila said, ?I?m getting ripped off, but he?ll kill me if I fuck up. He?s running meth out of the Blue Caf? in Long Beach, the Cabaret in Wilmington and another strip joint in Wilmington.?
?What if I can get him off your back,? Bandit said?
?I?ll do anything you want,? Sheila said. ?I?ll fuck you everyday and sell anything you want. But I got a habit. You?ll have to keep me going.?
?Can you keep your mouth shut for 24 hours,? Bandit said standing up? ?I?ll take care of it, and get back to you.?
Sheila stood up abruptly. There were tears in her eyes. She looked across the desk at the dark figure and pulled her top down. Her tits were perfect store-bought giants. ?I got these a year ago,? she said. ?I lost some feeling so I sued the doctor. He tore up his bill, but the feeling came back. Wanta touch ?em??
They were sloped perfectly and her nipples seemed to dance enticingly as if reaching for Bandit. ?Let?s take care of business first,? Bandit said and indicated the door. ?They?re beautiful, though. I?m sure we can have some fun down the road.?
She felt rejected until he murmured his last words and she pulled up her top, smiled and wiped her eyes.
?Freshen your make-up,? Bandit said, ?before you hit the dining room again. Remember what I said. Nothing about this to anyone, right??
?Yes, thank you,? Sheila said and let herself out.
