Late Night at Lucky's

This is the 1st part of an ongoing series....

The night started off innocent enough – me wandering the campus streets with a half smoked cigarette in my mouth and a closed-off coffee cup filled with red wine in my hand. My intention was to finish that off and call it a night. Then like an unsuspecting fool, I listened to the Stones – Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name. Nothing revs me up more than the Stones. Defiance, sex, soul – the Stones are the blackest white boys around.

I stopped at home to refill my now empty coffee cup and headed downtown where the action is. Where would it be tonight? The Downtown Lounge? No, I was just there Sunday. Max’s? Too many college kids. Lucky’s? Yeah, that’s where I’m feeling it, Lucky’s.

Along the way I passed the Black Forest. I considered going in. I listened to the forces that guide everything. I listened to my heart. I entered.

The crowd was sparse - just what you’d expect on a Wednesday night. A girl was up on stage playing acoustic guitar and pouring her heart out. She was tall, thin, and beautiful. I fell in love with her right there and then, but I knew that would pass quickly enough.

I tried striking-up a conversation with a few people and they were polite and all, but the Black Forest just isn’t the place for that kind of thing. Everyone’s dressed in tattoos and black and skulls and bones and metal. After while you begin to realize that it’s the kind of place where any attempt to conversate with a stranger is viewed as a weakness. So I had a couple of beers and left.

There was another guy leaving about the same time as me. We both crossed the street. “Where you headed?” I asked.
“Lucky’s.”
“Really? So am I. Mind if I walk along with you?”
“Not at all.”
As we approached he gave me a warning, “I go to Lucky’s to play the video poker machine at the bar. So don’t take it the wrong way if I’m not too social.”
“That’s cool,” I said. I didn’t care. I blow with the wind.

“He knows,” my walking partner said as we walked entered the bar pointing to the guy at the door checking IDs, “where do I sit when I come in here?” The short, Mexican guy pointed toward the empty seat at the bar with a video machine blinking, demanding attention. Kind of funny, I thought, and better yet it provided just the diversion I needed to slide past and avoid paying cover. Life’s like that. You gotta jump on opportunities when they present themselves.

I grabbed a seat up at the bar. “How’s it going?” I asked the guy next to me. “Pretty good.” It was obvious he was on his own, looking to talk. So we talked. Mostly about girls….all about girls. He traveled a lot on his job and he was always looking to score. Sometimes he succeeded, sometimes he failed, but he was always trying. “It’s all a gamble. You gotta role the dice,” I said.
Continued in part ii.