Kill Whitey

But it wasn’t either of those. We found out later that a car had skidded off the road because of the rain and hit a major power line. Our maintenance guys couldn’t get the back-up power going, so instead of paying us to stand around and do nothing, the company sent us home early. Despite the loss of hours, that was okay with us. People fucking cheered and shit. It was Friday. Even better, it was payday. And since GPS insisted on direct deposit for all of their employees, the money was already waiting for us in our checking accounts. All we had to do was hit an ATM.

Three day weekend, cash in pocket. Life doesn’t get any better than that. Thank you, whoever the hell it was that wrecked his car and got us out of work early. Hope you didn’t die in the process.

The strip club was Jesse’s idea.

Once we found out that we could leave, the four of us met up in the parking lot, debating what to do. The worst of the storm was over. A fine mist fell from the sky. Not enough to count as rain, but enough to be an annoyance. With the power out, the overnight security lights weren’t working and the only light was from the car headlights as our co-workers raced past the guard shack and down the road. Most of them were probably heading home, or to parties at friend’s houses. At that time of morning, the bars were closed.

“Early start to the weekend,” I said. “What should we do?”

“We could hit the Knotty Pine,” Yul suggested. “They got an after hours license.”

“No way.” Darryl lit a cigarette, shielding it with his hands so it wouldn’t get wet. “My ex hangs out in that place. So does her new man. We go there, I goddamn guarantee you they’ll want to start some shit and break bad on me. Prove he’s got the bigger dick. I ain’t in the mood for that tonight. Dude gets up in my face and I’m gonna knock him the fuck out. Don’t feel like going to County tonight for some bullshit.”

I nodded. “Fair enough.”

“The Tourist Inn?” Yul said.

I shook my head. “They’re closed for the night. Last call is at two.”

“What about Thads?” Darryl exhaled a puff of smoke. “They can serve people after hours, too.”

Jesse groaned. “Thads—the gay bar? Fuck that shit. I ain’t drinking in no mother fucking gay bar, even if they do have an after hours license.”

I sighed. “You know, dude, just because you have a drink with some gay guys, that doesn’t mean you’re gay. Why you gotta be homophobic and shit?”

“I ain’t homophobic.”

“Yes, you are.”

Darryl nodded in agreement with me. “That’s some racist shit, Jesse.”

“Being gay ain’t a race.” Jesse sighed. “It’s a sexual orientation. And besides, I’m not a damn racist like those Eastern Hammer skinhead and Sons of the Constitution motherfuckers. You’re black, Darryl. Yul is Asian. I hang out with you guys, right?”

Darryl took another drag off his cigarette and glared at Jesse. “Is this the part where you start listing all your non-White friends?”

“Fuck you. That ain’t what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?” Darryl asked.

“All I’m saying is that I ain’t homophobic.”

“Well,” I said, “then what the fuck? It’s 2011, dude. You work alongside gay guys every day. You can’t drink a fucking beer with them after work?”

“It ain’t that,” Jesse said. “I got nothing against gays. I’m just in the mood to see some pussy.”

Darryl smiled around his cigarette. “Well shit, why didn’t you say so? Now you’re talking.”

Jesse returned the smile. “If I wanted to see dicks, I could just hang out in this parking lot with you guys.”

Somewhere in the dark, a fire siren wailed; probably another accident on the highway. I shivered, wishing we could decide soon so that we could get out of the damp air.

“What are you thinking?” I asked Jesse. “Where to? The Foxy Lady?”

“No. Too many gang bangers and slingers hang out in there. Fuckers got no respect for anybody. Been that way since the Italians sold it. You look at a stripper wrong and they’ll be up in your face. And besides, Foxy Lady closed at two. Ain’t got no after hours license. How about the Odessa, instead?”

The Odessa was a strip joint off Interstate 81, just south of Harrisburg and Camp Hill. Open nineteen hours a day, six days a week, according to their commercials on the radio. Closed on Sundays and a few hours each morning for shift change and clean up. Darryl, Yul, and I had never been there. Jesse went all the time, and never hesitated to tell us about it. It was one of his favorite hangouts.

“Sure.” I shrugged. “I’m down for that. Been meaning to check that place out.”

“We can’t drink there,” Yul said. “They don’t serve beer. It’s BYOB and we don’t have shit. I thought you guys wanted to get drunk.”

Jesse shook his head. “Man, fuck getting drunk. We’re gonna see some pussy, Yul. You like pussy, don’t you?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, okay then.”

Darryl flicked his cigarette butt into a rain puddle. “I’m in. Let’s do it. I drink too damn much anyway.”

“I don’t know,” Yul said. “I’d better not go.”

Jesse rolled his eyes. “Why not?”

“What if Kim finds out that I went there? She’d be pissed as shit.”