The Break-up Pool
Brian and Alison were head to head baby-talking and embarrassing the hell out of the rest of us. They'd been an item long enough now to have pretty much stepped on everyoneês toes. Calling in sick, blowing off late tables, smooching in the changing room, and generally stretching the staff's patience to the limit.

All the squares in the break-up pool had been sold out for weeks. Eddie felt pretty good about holding a ticket for Monday night since it was usually slow enough to incubate trouble. He'd been watching carefully the past week. When Brian told him over a highball she was starting to work his nerves, Eddie nodded sympathetically and rolled his eyes. Then he waited until Brian punched out and went to Gooch at the bar and doubled down on his bet.

We leaned at attention and talked quietly³relaxed, but not sloppy. Even though it was still early, the night was basically over. Monday. What else?

A few minutes later there was movement at the door and heads turned. A platinum blonde caricature was standing at the podium talking to Rachel. A late table³and a single at that.

"She's baaaaack," Eddie said in a painful falsetto.

Down the wall heads turned and eyebrows raised.

He cleared his throat and then dropped sheepishly back to baritone. "You know, like the little girl in the movie."

"Yeah, we got that," Albert said. And the heads turned back to the door.

Eduardo was right; she was back. And she'd brought the side dishes. 'She' was Yahavna Chance, the girl with the double EE's. She danced or rather dodged her swinging breasts in time to old Motown at the Capistrano Club. She was a nice girl; everybody said so. And smart too, but at the Capistrano that counted for exactly nothing. What mattered there was size. Big was good and bigger was gooder. Yahavna had a corner on giant. In fact, she had been back to the surgeon more than once for upgrades to maintain her edge as the biggest attraction on the strip.

"You see that?"

"Pretty hard to miss," Albert answered.

Rydell said, "I didn't see her name in the book."

"She's there, one at ten," Brian sounded certain.

"No way, that was Barbara something."

"Gee dickhead, Did you think Yahavna Chance was her real name?"

"Hey, she's really nice," Albert said.

"Yeah, a sweetheart," Eddie said with a snort. "Especially if it's your birthday."

"What are you guys talking about?" Alison knew she was walking into it, but something was rancid in the reachin and she wanted to know what it was.

"He said, Barbara likes to celebrate." Albert smirked at Brian.

Eddie cut in grinning. "She has been known to pick up attractive service people on special occasions and take them home."

"Don't listen to those jerks, Brian pleaded.

Alison dug her nails into Brian's arm. "And?"

"Look Alison it was years ago." Brian said glaring at Albert and wincing in pain. Alison was working the sleeve of his tuxedo hard now.

"Eduardo are you saying that Brian told her it was his birthday and she took him home and made love to him."

Eddie laughed. He saw ducats in the pool for sweet baby E. And all it was gonna take to make it happen was the tiniest little shove. Just one more tweak. "No, I'm saying he lied to her and she went for it. Fucked him every which but loose. A night in heaven. Isn't that what you called it Bri?"

Rachel had a menu in her hand and was leading the way into the dining room. The top heavy dancer teetered along behind her to A4, a deuce. Rachel pulled out the chair facing the Bridge. Barbara stepped around her and took the other seat. This one faced the wall the waiters were holding up. For a moment Rachel looked confused, then she shrugged, put the menu down and walked away. Ms. Chance flipped the menu open and scanned. Slowly her eyes rose and she panned back and forth across the waiter line-up--studying, scrutinizing, assessing. The platoon of servers happily stared right back. Except for Alison. She watched Brian skulk through the door into the kitchen. A nano-second later she followed. Eduardo tap danced (at least in his mind) to the bar, convinced he was about to become a man with a big roll of drinking money.

"Who's got A4?"

Rydell the most married of married men pushed off the wall and hummed, "Happy birthday to me."
--Gary Epting