A Good Day for Women

Jack cautiously carried his tense muscles past the counter person and into the stage area. He had to pay full price, $10, because a show was going to start in a matter of minutes. The afternoon matinee, he supposed. For a brief moment he worried about awkward stares or perverted glares from the ten or so men who were seated around the perimeter of the stage, anxiously awaiting today's featured performer. Fortunately, their need to not miss a single moment of live sex prevented any of them from turning their heads to notice him. He quickly hurried past and around the corner, heading down a short passageway.

He carefully avoided the gaze of the women in the windows of the peep-show booths. He knew which one he was heading to, it was always the third one down, and he didn't want the sight of any of the more homely women to ruin his intent. He entered his favorite booth with his head down and gathered his quarters in his hand.

As he stacked his change he thought of the first time he had come here. He and Charles had spent enough time at the Purple Orchid across the way, and after shooting a quick game of pool at Jerry's Corner, decided they needed one last fix of cheap sexuality. Charles spent most of his time in the video booth while Jack walked around. At first he found the peep booths rather unkind, but in one window sat a woman with her back to the picture window. Curious, he couldn't help but get some change from the machine and go in.

She was beautiful. The kind of beautiful Jack had not come into contact with in some time. Her raven hair spilling, crawling down her bare back with the most beautiful butterfly tattoo at the base of the spine; her full, slightly sagging breasts; her large, round buttocks. There was a distance in her eyes that the Walt Whitman Bridge couldn't span. She immediately started to talk to him, some come-on about "how's it going in there," but Jack insisted that she not speak. He didn't want anything to spoil the beauty of her silent image, gyrating and dancing just for him. He became so overwhelmed that when he dropped one of his quarters, he almost reached to the floor to pick it up.

It had since become routine. Every Tuesday afternoon he would take a cab down to 64th & Passyunk to see his angel dance in silence before him as he quietly masturbated behind the safety of a one-way mirror. Every time, she sat with her back to the window, and every time she started to speak, he would shush her. Today was no different.

Her lazy eyes spoke, not her voice, "How's it going today?"

"Don't speak." He always lowered his voice when he said this, hoping it would lend him some form of authority.

She smiled slightly, an old, knowing smile. He knew that he had become familiar to her, but he didn't care. He rapidly dropped his five dollars in quarters into the slot and unzipped his pants.

She was the most graceful dancer. She had no music, no pole, just whatever random song sung its way into her head. She would play with her full breasts, moving them up and down, pushing them together then letting them fall. She never got pornographic, never fingering herself or doing anything crude. She just swayed to some mystical song, caressing herself in the most tender way.

Jack's favorite days were the ones where he came a minute or so before his money ran out. Then he would just sit back and watch her, wishing he could have a cigarette to fully consummate the experience. Then he would let the window slide down, and quickly walk away. He would always wait just a moment, though, to let her reclaim her pose with her back to the picture window. He imagined she just didn't want to see what she had just pleased.

Today was not one of those days. His thoughts distracted him too much and his money ran out too quickly. Just when he found himself getting lost in her silent dance, the window slid down and he was left coming in the dark. He corrected himself, then ran ashamedly down the hall. In the corner of his eye as he rushed past he saw some businessman in a grey suit twisting a dildo into the stage performer's anus.

There were two things Jack could never adjust to about his weekly visits: the pseudo-sterilized smell of the club, and the painful brightness of the afternoon sun upon exiting. He could do nothing about the former, but to lessen the latter he took a cab to Charlie's.

Daniel was sitting on the corner of 22nd & Lombard as Jack's cab tripped through the intersection. Jack admired the handsomeness of his tall, blonde frame, crouched on the cement steps. Daniel waved his cigarette at Jack and stood up to follow him into the bar.

Jack patted Daniel's shoulder. "What's happening, man?"

Daniel exhaled. "Nothing, just getting the food ready for the evening. Wanted to get a little sun before the crowds start coming."

"Funny," Jack said through the smoke of his freshly-lit cigarette, "The sun is just what I'm hiding from." And with that they entered the bar.

———————————

Thomas was taking a break from work. All he really wanted to do was sit and enjoy a smoke, but Janice was there, and she wanted to talk. He knew that talking was what they needed more of, but he just couldn't bring himself to concentrate on it right now. His head was filled with strange songs and beautiful dancing girls. He wished there was just one other person in the cafe to distract him from Janice and the troubles they were having, but all the people had left after the afternoon rush. Maybe if the cafe were just a little bit larger, he wouldn't feel so claustrophobic talking to this woman.
Janice was apologizing about something. The most Tom could get out of it was that she felt she had overreacted. But he wasn't sure what about. He tried to look at her face, but it kept swimming into the faces of other women, all of whom had said the same things to him at one point of another. He put out his cigarette and ran a sweaty palm through the length of his unwashed hair. He wished someone wanted a sandwich.

"So you understand why I said what I did?"

Tom looked around, wondering who had said the words. Then he realized it was Janice.

"Yeah, well, you know..." His brain stuttered for his voice. "I just, well, we've talked about this before, and well..." What had they talked about before? "I just think, yeah, I mean, this is gonna come up again, isn't it?"

Janice looked down at her coffee. She hated trying to decipher his statements. "You tell me."

Tom felt empowered, but he wasn't sure why. "But, see, we don't have to. We've discussed it, and so there it is. See, there's no reason to continue discussing it. You're going to feel how you feel, there's no changing that. But then you feel bad about it, and everything gets confused. But if we both know where we stand then it's all fine, see?"

Janice looked up at him. She couldn't help but be distracted by his beauty. His long lion's mane, his minstrel's moustache, his conniving eyes, his slender frame. And she knew that they had discussed all of it. All of his past relationships, all of his current ones. They made rules for each other, and that was that there would be no rules. It just confused her sometimes. Deep inside herself she cursed the random guilt that had been imprinted on her psyche so many years ago.

"Yeah, I know."

"So you're okay, right?"

She was always amazed at how he could suddenly become tender. "Yes. It's okay."

Tom smiled. "So I'll call you tomorrow. And don't let anything Jerry says get to you. It's all gone, you know? Passed."

She leaned across the table to kiss him. She couldn't help but quiver a little as he reached his hand arond the top of her neck and pulled her face closer to his.

"Tomorrow," she said, sitting back down.

"Tomorrow" he said, standing up to go back into the kitchen.

Janice gathered her bag and scarf and headed out the door. Thomas watched her as she walked away. Seeing her in motion always inspired him. She was almost perfect, physically. He ignored the voluptuousness of her body and just watched her hair as the summer's breeze carried it down the street. He remembered how he had gotten them together. She was sitting at the counter of Miranda's Lunchbox with her friend Tamara, and just before they left he gave her his number and said, "So you'll call me, right?" She was put off at first, but she did call. And they did get together. And in the back of his mind he knew that he would never, no matter what else happened in his life, forget the way she would purr when he kissed her.

Thomas got up and headed towards the kitchen. He checked the clock. It was 4:45. Laura would be in the cafe in a few minutes to take over. He checked the prep containers to see if there was anything that needed to be refilled. Just then, the phone rang.

"Hello, Makam's."

"Tom?" It was Jack.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Nothing. I'm hanging with Daniel over at Charlie's. You coming over?"

Thomas looked around at the empty cafe. He found his gaze stopping at the seat that Janice was sitting at. "Yeah, I'll be over. I'll bring some soup."

———————————

Peter came out from the kitchen and walked behind the bar. Jack and Daniel were just sitting there, relaxing over their Yuengling Lagers. Pete looked at Jack. "So, did you sleep with her?"

Jack tapped out his cigarette. "Do you really want to know the story?"

Both Pete and Daniel jumped up. "Oh, tell us! Tell us please!" they chimed in mock harmony.

Jack shrugged. "It's not that good a story," he warned, "but basically, after Gloria and I left here, I was going to walk her home, keeping my fingers crossed and hoping to God and all that. Well, she comes up with the idea of getting some coffee at Little Pete's," Jack tapped out his cigarette and lit another. "I'm all for the idea, seeing as I'm getting pretty lousy and I want to, you know, be in good form and everything. So we end up sitting at Pete's drinking coffee until, I don't know, four or five in the morning. I'm thinking, this is set, this is a given. She just keeps asking about me and looking at me all soulful and everything. So we finally get to her door and she just says, 'Goodnight', and starts to go inside."

Daniel started laughing. "Good God, man! What did you do? Break down the door?"

"No!" Jack continued, "But this is the best part. I stopped her and said, 'Well, can I get your number, maybe give you a call?' And she just looks at me and says, 'I can't do that. I'm seeing somebody.' And goes inside! All that! I'm thinking, couldn't she have told me that earlier, so I could have gotten some sleep? Madness."

Peter refreshed Jack's lager, laughing to himself. "You know, Jack, maybe you should try something on a more professional level."

Jack shrugged. "Knowing my luck they'd take one look at me and quit."

Daniel stood up from his stool. "I'm gonna grab myself a sandwich. You hungry?"

"Nah. Besides, Tom is bringing over some soup from Makam's."

Jack relaxed against the bar and sipped at his beer. He wondered how long it would take him to get drunk today. He hoped to himself that it would be soon, so he could actually get a good night's sleep.
Pete moved the bartender's stool over to the corner that Jack was resting and sat down. "I don't get it, Jack. You're a good-looking guy, you're funny as hell. I just don't get it."

Jack took a deep swig of his beer. "I dunno, I guess I'm cursed."

The door to the bar swung open, hitting everyone with an unwelcome blast of sunlight. As always, all three of them turned to see who was coming in. There was something about Charlie's. You always had to check the door, because you never knew who would show up. Charlie's had hosted celebrities, artists, writers, political figures, and madmen. This was none of those.

Amy Lynne took a quick look around the bar, feeling relieved that no one was there. She waved her hellos to Peter and Daniel and sat down next to Jack, dropping her backpack on the floor next to her stool.

"So," she said to Jack as she lit up a cigarette, "I hear you had your dick in some girl last night."

Jack finished his beer and gestured for another. "You're so fucking lady-like, Amy. No, for the record, I did not have my dick in any girl last night."

"Oh, great," Amy Lynne continued, "So you're gonna be lots of fun to wait on tonight."

"You know, you could assist me with this problem."

Amy pretended to slap Jack's face. "No way, honey, I'm taken."

"Yeah, yeah," Jack sighed, "and just my luck I have to like the guy."

Amy Lynne laughed and patted Jack on the back. "Keep the faith, Jack, all in good time." She picked up her backpack and headed off to the kitchen.

Jack brooded over his beer. He thought about what Peter had said. It was true, to some degree. He wasn't unattractive, and he liked to think of himself as funny and intelligent. It just honestly seemed like he had been cursed ever since Jo had left. It didn't help matters much that she hadn't entirely left. How many nights would he come home and find little notes written in her hand? He kept telling himself he had to get his locks changed.

The door opened again, and Thomas came staggering in. Amy Lynne shouted at him from the kitchen.

"Hey, beautiful!" he yelled back as he draped his jacket over the back of his stool. He eased his frame onto the chair and ordered a Guinness. He and Jack shook hands. "So," he asked, "Did you get lucky last night?"

Jack threw his hands up in mock disgust. "I can't take it anymore! Doesn't anyone here have more important matters to worry about than my sex life?"

Amy Lynne came out from the kitchen with a plate of nachos in one hand and napkins in the other. "No, we don't."

"Well, sorry It can't be more interesting for all of you."

Daniel shouted out from the kitchen, "No, Jack, we find your inability to get laid quite fascinating!"

"I hate all of you. Pete, gimme a shot of Beam. Tom, gimme some soup." Thomas opened his backpack and pulled out a cardboard cannister.

"Hey, Amy?" he turned to her, "Can we get some bowls?"

"Fuck you, tough guy, I'm not on for fifteen more minutes."

"Well, fine, lady, there goes your tip." Tom got up and headed towards the kitchen.

Amy Lynne spoke through a face full of nachos, "Yeah, like you guys ever tip me anyway."

Tom returned with two bowls and divvied up the soup between him and Jack. Amy Lynne dipped one of her nachos into Jack's bowl. "Mmm, lentil feta, my favorite." Jack pushed her hand away from a second helping and turned to Tom.

"So, what're we doing tonight?"

Tom slurped his soup. "Well, Headlong is having a party later, so I thought about swinging up to Old City to check it out, but that's not until eleven or so."

"Do you want to swing by the Family?"

"Sure," Tom shrugged, "I'll head over there with you."

Amy Lynne laughed. "You guys and your strippers. Don't you ever get bored?"

Jack scoffed. "Bored of seeing naked women without any resposibility or commitment? Tom, I dare say the woman is insane."

Tom pushed his empty bowl away from him. "Actually, Jack, it does get kind of boring."

"I don't believe what I'm hearing. You're talking about one of the mainstays of my existence."

"Jesus, Jack," cried Daniel, coming back from his kitchen work with a club sandwich in his hand, "You really need to get laid."

Peter refreshed everyone's beers. "Maybe you should work on Jo to get a sympathy fuck or something."

"No way."

"Come on, Jack," Amy agreed, "I slept with my last boyfriend every now and then for about three months after we broke up. It's not that big a deal."

"Yeah," continued Peter, "Besides, she's in your apartment often enough."

Jack laughed. "You know, two days ago I came home from work and she had cleaned my entire apartment. Top to bottom, even the bathroom."

"Can Jo break up with me, too?" asked Daniel.

"I dunno," countered Tom, "I think it's kind of creepy."

Amy looked gravely into Jack's eyes. "Jack, change your fucking locks. Good God, man, she's breaking all the post-relationship rules. You just don't do nice things for your ex-boyfriend except maybe a blowjob every now and then."

Jack thought for a moment. "I'd rather that, definitely."

Daniel turned to Amy. "Amy, will you break up with me?"

———————————

Jack and Thomas walked mostly in silence through downtown Philly. It was that perfect time of year, just before the humidity tore through the summer breeze, and Walnut Street was overrun with people. As they walked they watched the young business types rushing into the neo-deco of Brasserie Perrier and Circa, they eyed up the young girls smoking cigarettes outside of the record store, admiring the return of sundresses and cut off t-shirts. There was a relaxed energy around town as there always was this time of year, and eveywhere they went there were beautiful women.

"You know what today is?" Jack asked.

Tom was struggling to get a cigarette out of his pocket. "I've no idea."

"It's a good day for women."

Tom laughed his approval. Together they walked and smoked and admired the women pouring out of the Bellevue Hotel as the shops inside closed up for the night. Between Broad and 13th Streets there were three young Japanese girls dressed for a summer's day off, their black slacks and white cotton shirts clinging to their slender bodies in a torturous manner. Certainly they deserved a moment's admiration, but Tom and Jack were quick to move on.

Jack himself found the sudden darkness of All In The Family quite welcome, even if the blare of the jukebox in the otherwise silence of the day seemed excessive. There were only three other people in the bar, all sitting under the out-of-season tinsel that lined the roof above the bar counter. Joanie was on stage, her hands pressing her large breasts upwards to her chin, swaying to the Sisters of Mercy. She let one of her breasts fall as she released her hand to wave at the two of them.

The bartender, Noelle, was chatting with one of the doormen when she realized that Jack and Tom had walked in. She carried her aging frame over to them with a smile and a swing in her hips.

"Hey, boys, what can I get for you?"

Jack ordered lagers for the two of them as Tom went over to Joanie to say hello. Noelle handed the beers over, then passed Tom a shot of bourbon, courtesy of the owner. Jack downed the shot, then took the drinks over to a table on an upraised, tiled section of the floor. He sat down and leaned his chair against the cut-out partition that seperated his table from the men's room behind him.

Jack took a cursory glance of his surroundings. He felt he would always find comfort in the random inappropriateness of the Family. From the fading red painted walls to the Christmas wallpaper that had probably been there since Christmas Day, 1968, to the poorly-sketched Frank Sinatra and Clark Gable drawings that were framed and hung at random by the tables. He knew in his heart that this place would never fit in anywhere else, and therefore it was an appropriate location for him.

He thought about the first time he had ever been to the Family. He was getting extraordinarily drunk with Lucien Skinner and Susan Severte at Dirty Frank's, and had mentioned his curiosity about the "Live Dancing Girls" sign above the doorway of this odd little go-go bar. Lucien and Susan decided that Jack needed to experience the "Family" first-hand, and they quickly settled their tab with the bartender and walked the two blocks up 13th Street to the club.

Inside was a place Jack could never have imagined. Despite the run-down white-walled exterior and the 50s flashback design of the interior, there was something that made sense to Jack about the place. It didn't hurt any that the girl onstage was absolutely gorgeous. Jack mentioned what he felt was painfully obvious to Lucien.

"You know her," Lucien informed Jack, "that's Marnie's ex-roomate, Jackie."

Jack thought for a moment. Susan tried to clarify for him, "Remember? The photographer?"

And suddenly Jack did remember. He remembered a pretty, scrawny young red-head in a baggy "Christian Death" t-shirt and torn black jeans who was perpetually bumming cigarettes from whomever was sitting next to her. And now she was on a stage, topless, her lithe body swaying quietly to a James Brown song. He couldn't help but admire her small, pert, exposed breasts. He considered all of the times he had wondered what her breasts had looked like during those lost nights in West Philly rowhomes of grass-smoking and beer-drinking and back-corner coke lines. He realized at that point that go-go dancers weren't strange, obscure women who arrived from who-knows-where just to dance topless for a random group of men. He realized then that they were the girls you saw everyday in cafes and bars and bookstores all over town who needed the money and couldn't stand waitressing for crummy tips anymore. He realized then that the go-go dancers were women he knew.

Tom left Joanie and sat down opposite Jack. He pointed to Jack's pack of cigarettes which lay on the table. "Can I bum a smoke?" Jack opened the pack and counted what cigarettes remained, even though the pack was almost full. Finally he took one out and passed it to Tom, who lit up with Jack's zippo. After a deep drag, Tom spoke. "Listen, we can't hang here too long. Or, I can't. Joanie says Nat will be in at nine."

"Jesus," Jack laughed, "Pretty soon we won't be able to go anywhere in this fucking city."

Tom raised his hands to the air. "It's not like I did anything! One day everything's great and the next day she's telling everyone how much of a bastard I am! I still don't know what the hell she's talking about."

"That," Jack informed him, "Is why you never sleep with go-go dancers."

"Look who's talking. You've had your share. And how long have you been trying to get into Kit's g-string?"

Jack lit up a smoke. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Anyway, Vickie's my new favorite girl. Have you seen her yet?"

"Is she the nineteen year-old with the huge bazooms?"

"Yep. Chad McHugh and I snuck her into the Pen & Pencil a few nights ago. She's the most jaded, cynical, miserable little girl I've ever met. I'm in love."

"Jack."

"What?"

"Please, don't make me hit you."

Jack shrunk into his chair. "Oh, yeah. Right. Me and my little fantasies. You know, I believe my fantasies are actually getting smaller with time. You know? It's like, when I was a teenager they were long walks on moonlit nights and long-term relationships. Then they became Short walks on moonlit nights and brief relationships. That turned into one night of mad passion."

Tom took another of Jack's cigarettes. "That's a good fantasy."

"Yeah," explained Jack, "but now the girl just smiles at me and keeps walking."

Tom laughed his uproarious hollar of a laugh as Joanie came to their table and sat down.

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