Tough Luck by Jason Starr Read Free Book Online Page A

jam-packed with rich-looking guys—some in suits and ties, others wearing Izods with the collars flipped up—and beautiful women in expensive clothes. Mickey felt very out of place. Chris, dressed like a guido, didn’t fit in, either.
    Chris weaved ahead of Mickey through the crowd, smiling at all the women he passed, and a few times he stopped and talked into their ears. Some song about turning Japanese was blaring, and Mickey couldn’t hear what Chris was saying, but none of the girls stopped and some of them made disgusted faces while they walked away.
    At the bar, Chris bought Mickey a Bud and a shot of something green.
    “What is it?” Mickey asked.
    “Just suck it down,” Chris said.
    Mickey did the shot, wincing as if it were poison, then chased it with some beer.
    “Come on, smile,” Chris said. “If you stand around, looking like a fuckin’ sourpuss, girls’ll never look at you.” Chris started smiling. “See that blonde over there? The one with the big knockers and the nice caboose?”
    Mickey looked over. The girl had straight shoulder-length hair, and she looked like she had probably grown up in the city in some fancy apartment uptown, maybe on Park Avenue. She was with another girl who looked the same except her hair was brown.
    “Yeah, what about her?” Mickey asked.
    “Look how fuckin’ hot she is,” Chris said. “She has the big blow-job lips and the blonde hair just like Bambi Woods.”
    “Who?” Mickey said.
    “Debbie,” Chris said. “Come on, you get the friend.”
    “Hold up,” Mickey said.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “Don’t you think those girls are out of our league?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “They’re not gonna wanna talk to us.”
    “How do you know?”
    “Because I can tell. They’re looking for some Wall Street guys with money, that’s why they came to this place.”
    “Watch the doctor operate,” Chris said.
    Mickey shook his head and followed Chris over to the two girls. Chris started talking to the blonde. The other girl looked at Mickey, then she whispered something to her friend and walked away.
    Chris continued to talk to the blonde. Mickey felt stupid, standing by himself, so he went back to the bar and finished his Bud. After a few minutes, Chris returned.
    “Fuckin’ skanky city bitch,” Chris said.
    “What happened?” Mickey asked.
    “I was talking to her, getting her to laugh and shit, then she tells me she’s ‘with somebody tonight.’ I knew she was full of shit, feeding me a line, but I didn’t feel like playing that game, you know? It’s not like she’s the last chick on the fuckin’ planet . . . What happened with your chick?”
    “We have a date Saturday night,” Mickey said.
    “You know what your problem is?” Chris said. “It’s your attitude, that’s what your problem is.”
    “My attitude?”
    “Yeah.”
    “The girl walked away from me.”
    “But why’d she walk away? That’s the question you gotta ask yourself. Maybe if you said something to her or even smiled, she would’ve stuck around. You can’t just look at a girl like you hate the world and expect to get laid.”
    Chris took out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and jutted one toward Mickey.
    “No thanks,” Mickey said.
    “That’s another problem,” Chris said, “when you go to a bar you gotta smoke. Chicks like guys who smoke. Besides, if you got some smoke into your clothes, you wouldn’t smell like the freakin’ Fulton Fish Market.”
    “Fuck you,” Mickey said.
    Chris laughed. “Come on, Mick, you’re my friend and shit, but everybody knows you smell like Charlie the fuckin’ Tuna.”
    “Work at a fish store—see how you smell at the end of the day.”
    “Can’t you at least shower?”
    “Fuck you.”
    “I’m trying to be your friend,” Chris said, “but you gotta do something because no girl’s gonna wanna talk to you when you smell like you’ve been cleaning fish tanks.”
    “Come on, let’s just get out of here,”