Reins II
Chapter 4. Book V ~ Edition II
The Rēos fiasco necessitated a more proactive approach in the quest to date skillfully. Luckily, a new laborer named Theo Pardi came to work for Atlas, and his knowledge further enhanced dating prowess and strategy.
The twenty-year-old Theo stood apart from the other guys wearing bright, blond hair, tongue piercing, and earrings. Overhearing girls in the office discussing his cuteness and workout-acquired physique surprised me as office employees never discussed workers in that way. Theo appeared to be just another guy, yet women flocked to him, and guys thought him cool despite his somewhat flat personality. The inability to solve this mystery stemmed from my lack of style. Theo’s hipness and attractiveness did not happen by accident but instead from wearing all the right garb.
The need to acquire dating knowledge inspired conversations with Theo, which led to a partnership. Theo’s newness to the business provided the bargaining leverage of getting him employment on Sherēm’s truck, which posed no challenge since Stan called-in about once a week. Still underage, Theo also needed someone to buy him booze. In exchange for these valuable services, Theo provided the secrets of attracting hot women. A wise deal.
The first exchange of booze for dating intelligence happened at White Marsh Mall, starting with a stop at Endlessly Eighteen. Upon entering the teenybopper store, I nudged Theo. “Dude, what on earth are we doing here?”
“Oh, I’m just stopping in here to let my girlfriend know what time I’ll be over tonight.”
His girlfriend strolled to the front of the store like a supermodel on the runway. Her hotness caused a slight salivation not thought possible, and when we left, I turned to him. “Dude, she is fine.”
“Yeah, wait till you see the girl I’m banging at the gym.”
His casual confidence inspired credibility, and walking through the mall, Theo continued speaking honestly, “So, if you want to pick up hot women, you need to fix some things.” He looked me up and down. “The first thing we need to do is get you some fucking better clothes. Dude, you look like shit. It’s a wonder you get hot women; you must have a horseshoe rammed up your ass. Hot women notice how men dress. Ugly and fat bitches don’t care how you dress because they’re just happy a dude is talking to them.”
Sudden self-consciousness felt uncomfortable, but perhaps I needed his bluntness to break the wrongness or uselessness of my beliefs. In the past, fashion's shallowness inspired internal conflict and hatred for guys like Theo but now compelled listening since women formed a line waiting to fuck him.
Armed with the start of a new wardrobe, we headed from the mall to the liquor store. Theo noticed me stopping to dig through bags for receipts on the walk to the Jeep. “You got everything?”
“Yeah, man, clothes are expensive, and I can’t stand shopping even for myself.”
We continued walking as Theo swung a shopping bag over his shoulder. “Dude, there’s nothing free in this world, especially not good-looking women. Don’t worry; you’ll feel better about shopping when you start fucking a bunch of new bitches.”
“You’re right about that.”
Arriving at the Jeep, Theo handed me a piece of paper. “So, here is what I need.”
Case of Nasty Bo
Bottle of Lightning Bird
Bottle of the Royal Crowned Prince
Shaking my head, I grunted a laugh. “Man, are you trying to get sclerosis of the liver? This booze is crap. This is not cool at all. Let me teach you something.”
We drove to the liquor store, and I waved to for him to follow. “Come inside with me.”
“Are you sure? I thought they won’t serve you if you were with someone underage?”
“It’s cool, man. Just act normal. I come to this store all the time, so they know me.”
We walked into the liquor store, stopping at the wine aisle, where I pointed to the booze on the shelf. “Notice how Lightning Bird is all the way at the bottom. That means that wine is bottom-shelf shit. Same goes for the beer. That’s for winos and bums. The wine is probably for your girl, assuming you don’t drink that crap.” I jerked my thumb upward. “What you want to buy is something closer to the top shelf. That way you'll impress the girl and not feel like shit the next day.”
The liquor store owner’s son, Rod, joined the conversation. “Yeah, listen to what Vinnie is telling you. Girls come in here always asking for the top-shelf shit when their man is buying. I see it all the time. Motherfuckers who buy top-shelf fuck top-shelf bitches, and guys who drink bottom-shelf; well, they drink alone or with skanks.”
Rod went to the front of the store to ring up a customer as I turned to Theo. “Good liquor also means a better drunk and less of a hangover. Volume isn’t everything.”
“Damn.” Theo stared at the booze.
“I know. There’s a lot of differences in booze and how they affect you. Here, take these bottles up to the counter and pay for them.”
“He’ll card me.”
“Maybe, but unlikely. You’ve been talking to him, so he’ll probably assume you’re twenty-one since you’re with me and since you’ve been standing in the store talking.”
Theo stepped up to the counter, placing bottles on the counter, which started Rod working the register. “Good choice, man. Vinnie is right. Top shelf is the way to go. Bitches know good liquor better than we do, and if they don’t, you’ll seem like the man. Vinnie comes in here all the time with fine ass bitches. You’re gonna hit it hard tonight. That’ll be forty-five-sixty-four.”
Leaving the store, I said to Theo, “Next time, I’ll show you how to make the perfect martini.”
“Isn’t that something just in movies?”
“No, my friend. Let me tell you about the three-martini lunch…”
Dino would be proud as we entered the Jeep and drove away discussing the virtues of the martini.
Wearing only a pair of my running shorts, Reins laid on the bed reading a magazine while I sorted new shirts trying to decide what to wear to the show at the Bayou Blues Café. “What do you think of these shirts?”
She looked up, dropped the magazine on the bed, and stood on the mattress. Her tiny well-formed body enticed with thoughts of more pre-dinner sex as instinct drove hands to the handfuls of Heaven called breasts. Playfully brushing hands from her chest, she took the shirts and studied them, holding them to my chest. “They’re both nice but wear this one tonight. I like it better. Wear those jeans you got the other day with your black leather shoes. I guess I better start getting ready too.”
She leaped from the bed and sprinted to the living room to retrieve her purse, and watching her move from the living room, past the bedroom door, and into the bathroom invoked curiosity. What does she see in me? The attraction started with Rēos, but many women possess a competitive streak making them want other women’s men. Men don’t share this competitiveness in the same way. Sure, guys fuck other men’s wives and girlfriends, but women exercise this competition in a more premeditated and vindictive manner like the way Reins knew I dated Rēos, but rather than playing it cool, she left hair scrunchies on the Jeep’s gearshift or underwear on the dresser. These frustrating acts forced constant inspection of the apartment and Jeep for hidden fuck-you gifts. Finding the gifts, hiding them, and returning them to their original locations before Reins returned required much effort. Pissing on the dashboard or nightstand to mark her territory might have made life easier. Not understanding this competition and likening interference with breaking up a shark fight with a bloody hand, I avoided involvement and conversation topics concerning other women while continuing to collect and hide Reins’ territorial markers to keep sex drama free.
So, competition helped drive the attraction, and surely, the Jeep helped with first impressions, but something still escaped understanding. Reins stood at the bathroom mirror sorting her makeup while I watched her from the hall. “Reins, don’t take this the wrong way. I’m not getting all sappy on you, and I don’t want you to think I’m trying to rush you into a serious relationship, but I’m wondering why you’re dating me? I mean, I’m twenty-four and working a blue-collar job. You’re nineteen and in college. I’m sure a million college guys are banging down your door.”
She stepped into the doorway and leaned against the jamb as the shower released steam rising along the curves of her legs to the towel barely covering her. “I like you because you’re older, dumbass. If I was out with some guy my age tonight, I wouldn’t be going to a blues show and having a nice dinner. Instead, we’d be drinking before or after we went to the restaurant because we can’t get served. Then we’d order the cheapest entrees on the menu because neither of us can afford better food. Screw that. I don’t want that high school shit.
“With you, I get treated with respect because the servers know you’re paying, and they don’t want to screw up their tip. I’m also never embarrassed because you’re mature and don’t say stupid shit and act like an idiot — for the most part. I like being treated like an adult and with respect. You know what I’m saying?”
“Yeah, that makes sense.”
Reins turned her back to me and let her towel drop. She stepped into the shower with the same look over the shoulder that first captured me. “It also turns me on a bit when people stare. You know, forbidden love and all.”
Her youthful appearance and womanhood combined in striking attractiveness. I stripped, following her into the water and steam that saturated and enveloped as we fucked in the heat of youth.