The Cato Carrera Stories |
"BUY ME DRINKEE?" the woman was dressed in a tight white button up shirt and a red skirt. "The fuck does that mean?" Cato asked. "If you buy 'em a drink, you can fuck 'em all night." Joey said. "How many times have you been here?" "This is my fifth." "Buy me drinkee?" Cato looked at the patch of hair on Joey's chin he'd always forgotten to shave, then over the woman's shoulder at the woman moving listlessly to a Christina Aguilera song on stage. "These chicks are gorgeous." Cato said. "Shit really the only job they can do here is fuck." Cato and Joey had spent five dollars between them and eaten two large bowls of chicken and rice and drank four beers. They were dressed in military liberty attire, collared shirts tucked into khaki pants. Cato pulled at the collar of his shirt and yanked the bottom of it from his pants. "These fucking pants." he said. "I know." The woman shrugged and walked over to another table of Marines. Stagnant smoke hung in the air. Her high heels stuck to the alcohol soaked floor as she walked, making a sucking sound. At the front of the bar, and older Thai women manned a podium in front of a bowl of multi-colored condoms. An officer danced on stage with two girls as Christina Aguilera gave way to Jay-Z. The officer jumped down and walked over to Cato and Joey's table. "You enjoyin' yourselves Devil Dogs?" "Yes sir!" Joey laughed. Cato sighed and lit a cigarette. "Good, " the officer said, slapping Cato's arm. "You boys deserve it." He walked off and danced his way across the room against the whores. "Fucker." Joey said. "Yeah." The last wave of heat crept through the front door covering the women and the Marines in sweat. Sweat was a daily part of their respective lives. |