51. What's The Use of Getting Sober?

There were three bags. A small grip held a change of clothes for me. Margarita emptied all the clothes in the other two bags onto the king-sized and picked out an outfit for Sam who held the skirt at arms length while she raised her eyebrows at me. Sam and I took turns in the bathroom to change. I came out in a pair of slacks, a clean white shirt and a sports coat like Rodney Dangerfield’s in Caddyshack. I hoped the lights were dim across the highway in Azazael’s place.

Sam was at the room window, looking out at the car lot. Margarita was wearing just hold-ups and heels; a cocktail dress over each arm.

‘Which one, Gabe, the red or the black​?’

‘I don’t care, the black, whatever.’

‘Whatever you want, Sugar.’

‘Jeez Louise,’ said Sam. I knew what she meant.

In Mr Deeds there was a party. It wasn’t a baby shower. The bar was full of bikers and truckers. ZZ Top was on the juke, singing that somebody knew how to use’em. Azazael’s was popular with the hairy white guys, in spite of his being black.

What? You think there are only white angels? Believers come in all colours, whatever they imagine will too, right? I look Chinese-American, what of it?

Sam looked pretty good in the short skirt Ms Cansino had picked out for her. All the hosiery the redhead had packed had been black. Their shoe size was the same, though Sam had taken a while to choose something a little less arresting than what Margarita had put on her feet. Of course, it was the redhead whose entrance silenced the room. I jostled a couple of beer-bellied baboons on the way to the bar. I called Azazael over rather than bother either of the South Carolina girls, who were looking at Sam and Margarita like they might spit in any drinks they served them.

‘3 Clown’s Cocktails, Gabe?’

‘Four.’ Azazael looked behind the three of us towards the entrance.

‘You’re having one too.’ I said.

He nodded and poured a noxious mixture into his ‘antique’ cocktail shaker. I was glad to see the Grenadine and Bailey’s had moved away from the corners of the top shelf. I wasn’t sure the angostura and advocaat was going to be much of an improvement. I picked up two glasses and passed them to Sam and Margarita at the same time. They both laughed and I felt a little of the frost thaw.

‘Twenty after ten,’ I looked at Azazael and lifted my glass. He returned the favour.

‘That late? You’ve got some finely packaged kerosene for the fire with you. Those good ole boys’ll be fighting by nine.’

I looked at my watch and sighed. It was a quarter to.