Monday, January 11, 2016

Should we pick a fight...

 "Should we pick a fight?"

The youngest of our gang blurted out yesterday.  I am not really sure what was going through his mind at the moment but we just bursted out laughing... “yeah..."  Another says... "lets go kick someone’s ass... just for fun... but let’s get fucked up first...”

We laughed and then looked at each other in one of those awkward silent moments... they all turn to look at me... I shrugged my shoulders... a bit confused... and say... “let’s go...” and they all chuckled...

Our young friend stands up and throws his beer bottle at the brick wall  - we were gathered in the back yard of a gang members house - his frustration and anger is something that reverberates through all of us... he lets out a primal scream and walks over to a tree and begins to kick it...

Long Shadow gets up and takes a fresh bottle of  beer from our cooler and takes it to the young man... he twists the cap off and takes a long drink... shakes his head and apologizes for his outburst... walks over to the wall and picks up the pieces of the broken bottle...

I know how he feels - we all do... we did not talk about the incident we simply picked  up our conversation before the idea of picking a fight interrupted us... but I know that for the rest of the evening it lingered in our minds...

He is a young man in his mid-twenties learning to become an electrician and hoping to find good work anywhere but here when he is done with his school... he is a good looking kid of Mexican and European descent that was always too shy to talk  to girls... he grew up in the states and was indoctrinated  by the  feminized  American school system and spent his youth in anger and depression for having to act and behave in contradiction to his nature... he never had anyone he could  really say were his friends in his youth and was bullied for a while... when he finally tried to stand up for himself - he was the one that got into trouble for it... the girls teased him and some called him creepy and the boys just shunned him and laughed at him... he confessed to me that he was on his way to becoming a criminal after high school because he just could not find a job and  he was too shy and intimidated, by all the women interviewing him for work positions everywhere he went, to even express himself...

He was the first one I brought into the gang... It was the simple act of listening to him  - he was not complaining... he was mostly asking why... and what... and how... he spoke of his frustrations and his anger at the world he was born into... and asked why... and what... and how... he needed someone to talk with... someone to listen and assure him that it was the world around him that was gone crazy and not him for the things he felt inside... and when he had nothing more to talk about and get off  his chest and clear his mind... I got him laid...

Our young Legionnaire was born with the gift of timing - like a comedian or skilled actor... he always knows (or does not care) when to let some outlandish but hilarious shit just fly out... and that was what we would use to make him the center of attention.

I was to meet with some business associates one night at a lounge on a week night at a place someone said would be filling up with a young crowd and attractive young women...  and it was also a watering hole for a white collar crowd after work... so I suited up our squire in one of my black suits which fit him nicely and a dark colored button down with a straight collar - no tie... made sure he got himself a nice haircut and we slicked it back - he looked like a young gangster out of Brian De Palma’s ‘Scarface’.  I was suited up as I knew the men we were meeting with would be and I instructed my friend to do very little talking - but he would act as the groups go to guy - get our drinks and make sure everyone is having a good time and that no one’s glass gets too empty - “tonight...” I said to him “you are the rain maker... whatever anyone wants, you will make it happen” I gave further instructions for him to sit at my right and he was free to ask any questions of anyone in the group but when doing so to move in close to them and ask in a low voice - the others will follow by responding in the same way moving in close and talking in a private manner... I also let him know to use his natural timing to let lose his wonderful insanity... I let him know that it’s best to let lose when everyone has their drinks in their hand ready to take a drink... and he did... and the men would laugh and spill their drinks and spit them out from nearly choking with merriment... and he would get up and move around the table to speak privately with the members of our group as I instructed him to and they would respond as I said they would...

We had commandeered a table in the center of the room and as the night went on a bevy of young ladies came and went but surrounded our table through out the night... and our open collard gangster with the slicked back hair stood out among the entire crowd... and quickly attracted the attention of all the women there... as part of his costume I let him carry the money - a wad of cash wrapped in a thick rubber band to stuff into his pocket... he also quickly became a hit among the men at our table... with his polite inquisitive manner and his flawless comedic timing... our table would get loud and everyone would look on us with envy  - the way you would wish you could sit at the cool table when you were in school... the shy boy was now rising up to the top of the food chain - but who was he, the crowd would wonder - this young suited hustler that men much older than him would pause to give their full attention to by listening intently as he spoke to them and laugh out loud as he joked with them... who was this kid that would get up to go fill a tray full of fresh drinks and pay for it all with a fist full of twenties and fifties... this punk that did not give a damn about anyone in the room and seemed to live for the moment and had the respect of the rich men at his table... he was loving it - at last... the universe was on his side... the women simply could not take their eyes off him... I looked up at him as he walked back from one of his trips to the bar carrying a tray full of drinks... and his walk had changed - he was confident and secure with his new persona... he had changed that night... as he passed a table of women he looked down at them and smiled and winked... a man he did not know passed buy him and stood aside with his arms out so that others passing by would not bump into him... the crowd was becoming mesmerized... and I myself was not even sure why... but I did know something was going to happen... the manager of the club came to our table to see that we were well taken care of and went directly to our young Mr. Montana... and offered us a round on the house... when the waitress came with our drinks he slipped her a big tip and dismissed her with a light tap on the ass... which she responded to with a shy giggle... and  blushed as she walked away... that was the move that brought other women closer to us... we put a couple of tables together with ours - as we were done talking business and “Tony” had begun to flirt with the girls around him... but he would leave them unexpectedly and many times with out excusing himself to go converse with one of our group or with me... and we would give him our full attention... he would say something that only the men would understand - a continuation of a joke from earlier and we would laugh... and the women would come to the conclusion that he must be a person of some importance... we moved the party to the lounge in some hotel and about a dozen women followed us there... it was our after party and sitting in a plush sofa with a blond to his left and a couple of brunettes to his right... one of them asked - “what is it that you do”

He smiled and said “baby... I’m the rain maker...” and I saw her eyes go wide... I had never seen that... what exactly she was thinking I could only imagine it to be... something... naughty...
The girls moved in close.

When the night came to an end a couple of the men left with some of the girls and the others alone but I was left there with my friend and four of the girls... one last round for the road...
He had chosen the blonde as his conquest for the night... girl had no idea she was getting a fresh one... I would linger behind with a young dark skinned girl of about twenty four...

Before he excuses himself  for the night he looks at me and says “ Jefe... do you need anything?”

I shake my head “No... but make sure you take care of that business tonight”.

His face turns serious “I’ll get it done - if I have to bury someone... I’ll get it done...”

The girls look nervous in an anxious anticipation kind of way (can’t really describe it).

He drinks down what is left in his glass in a hard swallow and slams it on the table in front of him to exaggerate his seriousness... and gets up and walks to me... I get up and we hug with one arm as we clasp the others hand - gangsta’ style... a give him a light tap on the cheek and say...  “ good job...”

Later he would tell me he got his first blow job that night... the first night he had sex... and the girl kept trying to guess exactly what it was he did as “the rain maker”.

Since then he has learn to take control... he is more sure of himself and he now has a gang he belongs to... he knows the life he does not want and is coming closer to figuring out the life he does want.  He has had enough girls now to begin to not care so much about them... they simply are play things for him as he is now learning the truth for himself about the modern American  woman... and works to better himself... he has found things to be passionate about and has taken to turning his mind and his body and his soul into temples of perfection... he looks to get closer to his creator... and still struggles to silence the demons inside... as we all witness yesterday... the anger and the frustrations that this modern world creates in us all  can not be contained for too long... young men will explode if there is no guidance there... if there is no one there to talk to... to listen... to laugh with him when he can no longer hold back the beast and wants to go out and pick a fight...

I am forty six years old... and I still carry that demon... along with others... and I want to go pick a fight... kick Satan in the dick and burn the world down... it still happens... I was that young man.

I know why he’s frustrated - he spoke of it before... he wants meaning for his life... he wants a purpose... a reason to do the things he does... he wants something true to believe in... not much has really changed since I was that young man...

“It’s coming” I tell him... destiny will find you... a fight is coming and you already know what side you’re on.

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