Needle Too by Craig Goodman Read Free Book Online Page A

deserve.
    Obviously, Jack and Randy’s attitude was extraordinarily refreshing to a group of seasoned employees accustomed to checking their self-respect at the door, and this only encouraged Rock and Roll staff members to linger at the bar after their shifts concluded. Certainly, this is something typically forbidden by proprietors always on the lookout for barkeeps treating coworkers to the occasional drink. However, this was never a concern at the café where staff was actually
permitted
a free shift drink as ownership was a little more evolved, a little less cost-conscious, and always absent and unaware of the open bar that would begin raging each night as the final customer left the establishment. Unfortunately, though, Connecticut bars and restaurants are required to stop serving alcohol at 1 a.m. during the week and 2 a.m. on the weekend, which would usually require Rock and Roll staff members to race against the clock and do some pretty serious consuming, as it wasn’t at all uncommon for Stamford police to wander by the restaurant after curfew to ensure liquor laws were being upheld. As a result, in order to avoid any unpleasant police encounters we had to devise a safer alternative, so after about 25 minutes of binge drinking we’d drive 20 drunk miles to a bar in New York where the fun didn’t stop until four in the morning.
    Each night the group of reckless revelers was essentially the same, and though I would catch a ride with Randy and Jack there was usually a total of about twelve of us making the pilgrimage to Port Chester and a little dive called Calloway’s.
    “Craig, you really should’ve shaved today,” Jack pointed out during my very first afterhours outing in Port Chester, from the same seat he always took at the head of a long, wooden, table in the corner of the bar.
    “Yeah, I know, man—I’m sorry. I definitely shouldn’t have come into work looking like this.”
    “Fuck
work
! I don’t want that prickly shit rubbing against my nut sack. Do me a favor and take a razor to it before you end up scratching my fruit bowl.”
    “Why don’t you take a razor to your fruit bowl?”
    “I already shaved and conditioned it this morning.”
    “Really? You actually shave your nuts?!?”
    “Every third day and believe me—
the shit is smooth…
like a baby’s behind.”
    “This is a disturbing set of images.”
    “Or a lady’s vagina.”
    “And yet they keep on coming.”
    “You’d
love
it.”
    “I actually prefer my vaginas to be a little on the hairy side.”
    “Why in the world would anyone wanna face full of
frizz
?” Jack said with an undisguisable degree of disgust.
    “Oh—come now, Jack,” Randy decided to chime in. “You’re forgetting who you’re talking to.”
    “Oh yeah, that’s right—Pubic Head over there,” said Jack in what I thought might be a disparaging reference to my ringlets.
    “The Red Pubic Head which is
really
disgusting,” said Randy as I was now certain of it.
    “Maybe I’m a grown man and I like knowing I’m with a grown woman you fucking freaks!” I suddenly shouted in what was obviously a desperate, flawed, and ineffective retort that would’ve typically fallen well short of my standards—but I had to say something because it felt like I was
losing
.
    “Hey, Craig—you sick motherfucker—what’s the worst thing about eating bald pussy?” Randy suddenly asked.
    “I don’t know.”
    “Putting the diaper back on!”
    “That’s sort of disturbing—don’t you think?”
    “I think you’ll be telling that joke for the next 10
years
,” said Randy as he finally fired off his own flawed retort because it’s already been much closer to twenty.
    “What’s
more
disturbing is your fondness for a hairy snatch,” said Jack as he just couldn’t seem to let it go.
    “Yep! Nothing like a warm, moist slice of furry fish pie to get me all FIRED-UP IN THE MORNING, JACK!! ”
    “EEEEWW!!”
he squealed. “That makes me wanna cry and throw