Ciao, bella (Human Pursuits 2/9/22)

On a Saturday night in Scottsdale Arizona: Part Four

SCOTTSDALE, AZ — The drag wasn’t good so much as it was non-existent. Despite Kevin’s promise at Diego Pops, we arrived to find the gay bar, BS West, almost entirely deserted. It was well before midnight, and not even the tumbleweeds, it seemed, could be bothered to show up that early. Awkwardly we paid our cover and made our way to the bar. “There’s usually drag queens getting ready up there,” said Kevin, pointing up. On the other side of the room across from us, a metal staircase led up to a cat walk, which connected to a sort of loft space. It was closed off, with only the occasional staff member going up or down. “I really thought they would be here tonight,” said Kevin. The bartender, a tanned young man, with short blonde hair and one percent body fat, asked us what we would like to drink. We were still pretty drunk from dinner and so we each ordered a vodka soda. I paid for mine on credit; the total was $16 U.S. dollars, pre tip.

I took a sip and turned, staring at the room around me. Unlike Rock Bar, BS West was not inherently cavernous. The main room, which contained a long bar and a small dance floor, was awash in coloured lights. Flashes of pink, yellow and blue flashed across the faces of the few patrons that had arrived so far. Along with the dance floor, the bar was furnished with two patios. One, housed off the back alley, was spartanly appointed with a few tables and chairs. The other, near the entrance, was more robust, containing a long table where the club’s clientele could sit, drink and kiki. We were so early that both spaces were empty. The alley patio was closer, so we went there.

Outside, we sat and drank a little. The heat of the day had retreated, but only slightly. A soft breeze blew in off the desert, scattering grains of sand across Old Town, each an echo of some great unknowable history that had long since passed. Kevin and Shomas had been upfront with the fact that they had long since run out of things to talk about during their trip, given that they spent nearly 24 hours a day together, so it came as no surprise when they wanted to break off. Leah and Shomas retreated back into the main room. Kevin and I stayed outside. He sipped his drink and stared out onto the alley that lined the patio. “How are you feeling about the proposal?” he asked.

I had decided a long time ago that Leah was the person I wanted to marry. But it was only in the past year that I had decided to do something about it. That spring, with the border between Canada and the U.S. starting to reopen, I called a jewellery store in Los Angeles and purchased a ring that I had seen online. It was a blue sapphire on a silver band. In a few days, we would fly to California, where I would pick up the ring and propose.

“I feel good,” I told him. “I just hope she likes it.” He told me I had nothing to worry about and I believed him.

“How are things with Shom?” I asked.

“Good. Really good,” he said “I love the kid,”

“Do you think you’d ever get married?”

“I don’t know if marriage is for me,” he said, “It’s nothing about Shom. I just don’t know if I believe in marriage.” He paused. The bass from the dance floor reverberated through the bar’s brick walls.

Just then, Shomas emerged from the bar. “How’s it going out here?” he asked. “Good, good,” I said “We’re just talking about the proposal.” Shom smiled a knowing smile at Kevin. He was holding what appeared to be a new drink. “We’ll be right in,” I said. He nodded and turned back the way he came. Kevin and I sat there a few moments longer. “I just want to finish my drink,” he said. “Actually, what I really want is a cigarette” he said, a sly smile curling across his face.

Behind us, just off the patio, a man and a woman stood smoking. “Any chance I can bum one of those of you?” asked Kevin. They obliged and handed him a thin white stick of tobacco. The woman cupped her hands around a lighter and Kevin took a drag. He exhaled and took a sip of his vodka soda, content. I stood silently as he burned through the cigarette, my head heavy with the haze of different liquors, and the psychic weight of travel. He took one last drag and finished what was left of his drink. “Shall we?” he said. We grabbed our empty glasses and walked back into the main room, placing them on the bar, where Shomas stood, waiting in line.

I was tired and thirsty and so I decided to wait with him, and order another.

“How’s it going?” I asked.

“It’s so nice to be out,” he replied “So nice to see you guys”

He approached the bar and ordered two more vodka sodas. The first glass slid over the bar, steam from the ice cubes fogging up its clear sides. Shomas grabbed the glass and walked away, towards the club’s entrance. I had barely registered his movement before the second vodka soda slid towards me, along with the debit machine. “How would you like to pay?” asked the bartender, his voice straining over the sounds of the dance floor, which had gotten busier since Kevin and I were outside. I told him I didn’t need the machine. I pulled two $20’s out of my wallet and told him to keep the change. We had been in Scottsdale for less than 12 hours and had spent almost all of our American cash.

I followed after Shomas, weaving my way through the dance floor, out into the front courtyard. Leah, Kevin and Shomas were seated around the long table, along with three strangers. Jaimie, her brother Chaz, and his fiancé, a wispy realtor whose name none of us could remember the next morning. It was Jaimie’s birthday, and the three of them had come to BS West to celebrate with some friends. Later, Leah would tell me that while Kevin and I were on the other patio, her and Shomas had met Jaimie, who in turn had trauma dumped all over her, crying to Leah about her relationship with her mom, who wanted Jaimie to be smaller and skinnier. Jaimie explained that even though she technically lived in Cincinnati, her family was so wealthy that she could go wherever she wanted. They had a house in Whistler and visited B.C. “four or five times a year.”

Though not petite, I still thought Jaimie’s mom was full of shit. But it didn’t matter. Jaimie was drunk. She told us that she had originally come to Arizona to check into rehab for depression. She loved the desert so much, she said, that she decided to stay. She had moved in with Chaz and his fiancé, who told me they were looking to get into something a “bit bigger.”

“Yeah, the market’s crazy right now,” I said.

“Do you own?” he asked.

“Oh, no,” I said “Vancouver real estate is too expensive.”

“You should move here,” he said “I could get you a great deal on a condo.”

I told him it was “food for thought” and sipped my drink. Leah, Kevin, Shomas and Jaimie had all found a way to excuse themselves, leaving me to watch Chaz and his fiancé further discuss the merits of Arizona real estate. When I could see the bottom of my cup, I stood up. “I think I’m gonna go get another drink,” I said. “See you in there.”

We were still short on cash, so I ignored the bar and went over to Leah and Shomas, who were hanging out by the dance floor. “How was that?” I asked Leah. She said “Fine” and told me everything that had happened with Jaimie. We looked at each other with the same tired eyes. “Should we head out soon?” I wondered. Leah nodded. I turned to Shom. “Where’s Kevin?” I asked. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jaimie stumbling about the room, her long brown hair drawn over her face like a curtain. She was holding shots. Beside her, an oiled up six pack with wings and a banana hammock side-stepped suggestively. “Kev’s outside, I think” said Shomas, staring at the six pack. “Do you think I could slip him a dollar bill?” I heard him ask as I walked toward the door “You know, like a tip?”

Outside, Kevin had talked his way into another cheeky cig, and was smoking with some new friends. “You want some?” he asked as I walked up. “I’m probably good,” I said, grabbing the thin stick and taking a short, shallow drag. He laughed and resumed talking to his new friends, a man and a woman, both of whom were also smoking. I checked my watch. Somehow it was approaching 1 AM. The desert moon hung high above the alley, dead and dry and cold as bone. I tried to catch Kevin’s eyes to signal that it might be time to go but he was busy chatting. Just then, another man emerged from the club. He was over six feet tall and slender, with warm eyes that sat behind oval reading glasses. He was wearing a green army jacket, from which he produced a package of cigarettes. He asked for a light and introduced himself.

He said his name was also Kevin. He had left his home in Michigan, with its lake effect winters, and full, sweaty barrooms, to live in Arizona with his best friend Ashley. They had found a little two bedroom not too far from the hospital where he worked. Like me, Kevin Two was a Pisces. “A fellow fish,” I said. “Never do mushrooms.” He said he didn’t do psychedelics. “I can only smoke a little weed before it gets weird,” he explained. As the four of them kept talking, the smoke from the cigarettes whisped softly up towards the midnight blue sky, forming a hazey pall. I turned to Kevin. “Yo, I’m thinking it might be about time to head out,” I said. “Lemme get one more drink,” he said.

We went back inside. As Kevin ordered his drink Leah and Shomas told me about how he had tried to put a dollar bill in the dancing angel’s banana hammock. Security had told him to knock off. “So I just handed it to him instead,” said Shomas, smiley as ever. We waited a few more minutes. Kevin finished his drink and we walked out to the street.

In the hours since we arrived at BS West, Old Town Scottsdale had grown quiet. Kevin ordered a Lyft, but they kept cancelling. The three of them were drunk. I was also drunk, only less so, which made me the sober one. It was after 1 AM and no cars were passing on the street. I unlocked my phone and tried to order an Uber, but my battery died. Kevin was sat hunched over on the curb. His eyes were closed. He was still holding his phone. Shomas sat leaned up against him, sleep fluttering across his eyelids. Leah had her arm wrapped around me. She kept telling me to get a cab. “Just flag one down,” she said “Just flag one down.”

The street was silent. Occasionally, a car would pass and Leah would tell me to flag it down. I tried to explain that there were no cabs. “Order an Uber then,” she said “I’m so tired.” I looked down and saw Kevin’s phone was still unlocked. I asked him to hand it to me, so I could see if we had been assigned a driver. The screen’s blue light flooded into my retinas. I felt exhausted. All I wanted was to go to bed, but first we had to cross the desert. I watched three drivers assign themselves to our ride only to cancel. I began to wonder if we would ever get home. We had been sitting outside for half an hour and I had not seen a single cab drive by. As I worried about what to do, I saw a car icon on Kevin’s screen get closer to our pin. I watched it weave its way through Old Town, inching closer and closer. “Guys I think the Lyft is close,” I said, “It’s a black four door.” From the curb, Kevin and Shomas stirred. Their eyes were still closed. “Just flag one down,” said Leah.

I looked back at the screen and saw the Lyft getting closer and closer. It stopped just around the corner. Suddenly a text flashed across Kevin’s screen “Your Lyft ride is arriving soon! Look for Gwen in a black Chevy Malibu.” I looked both ways. Suddenly, another message appeared “Your Lyft has arrived.” I looked at the map. It showed Gwen parked around the corner. “Guys, the car is here,” I said “I gotta go get it before she leaves — stay here.” I took off down the alley and past the patio and the smokers. The air was dry and still, but hot, and I could feel myself sweating. I sprinted down the alley, onto a neighbouring street, where the black car sat idling next to the back of a building. I opened the back driver side door. “For Kevin?” I asked. “Yeah” replied Gwen, who was Black and probably in her mid 30’s. “I’m so sorry about this,” I began, “But my friends are just around the corner, is it alright if I run and grab them?” “Uh, sure,” said Gwen. “Thank you, thank you, I’ll be right back,” I said, “Don’t leave!”

I ran back down the alley, aware that the smokers were watching me as I passed. I found Leah, Kevin and Shomas where I had left them. “C’mon ya’ll the cab is waiting,” I said. We walked back and slid into the car. Shomas took the front, while Leah, Kevin and I sat in back. “Everyone in?” asked Gwen. We told her yes.

She had barely pulled away from the curb when Kevin vomited. He was in the middle seat and tried to cross Leah to roll down the window but didn’t make it. He covered his mouth to try and stop the flow but it was no use. It was like watching a pebble try to dam a stream. The pinkish brown remnants of Diego Pops poured down his arm, onto Gwen’s fabric upholstery, and onto Leah, smearing across her Ciao Bella winery t-shirt. I told Gwen to stop the car. “I am so sorry but we need to pull over,” I said, knowing full well that we might have just lost our ride. “Did he throw up?” asked Gwen. I told her he had. “I’m so sorry,” said Kevin “I’m so sorry.”

Gwen parked the car. “I’ll run and grab some paper towels,” I told her “Please don’t leave.” From the back, Kevin kept apologizing “I’m so sorry,” he said. Shomas sat quietly upfront. I didn’t know if he was sleeping or just stunned. “Just wait,” I asked Gwen again, “I’ll be back in a second.” “It’s okay,” said Gwen “It happens.”

Again I took off running, back through the alley, past the patio and the smoke pit, which was now empty. I turned the corner and approached BS West’s bouncer. “I’m so sorry,” I told him “I was just here, and my friend thinks she forgot her wallet. Any chance I can dip inside and take a look? It will take two seconds.” He stared at me with an empty gaze. “Sure,” he replied, stepping away from the door. I stepped inside.

It was after 2 AM and the house lights had been turned on. BS West stood naked before me, her bright colours and dark corners traded for harsh overhead lighting that left every inch exposed. As I walked through the entrance, I noticed Shom’s angel, his banana hammock full of dollar bills. I walked past him and the few remaining patrons into the men’s room. I grabbed a three inch stack of paper towels and split it in two, placing one half in the sink, and the other under my armpit. I turned on the faucet, wetting the stack just enough so it didn’t immediately tear. I walked back out into the main room, through the alcove and onto the back alley patio, where I took off sprinting for the car, the sound of my shoes echoing down the alley, each one a prayer that Gwen hadn’t simply up and left.

Leah, Kevin and Shomas were standing on the asphalt as I approached. Gwen and the car were still there. Three of the vehicle’s doors were ajar, letting the smell of vomit waft into the street. I handed Leah and Kevin some wet paper towel. They began wiping down their arms and clothing, trying to clean off whatever dried vomit they could. I stuck my head into the back seat. “I’ve got some paper towel,” I told Gwen, who was sitting up front. Before she could answer, I was trying to scrub Kevin’s undigested dinner out of the car’s floor mats. I’d hoped that the wet paper towels would absorb most of the digestive juices, but the fabric upholstery was difficult to clean. Corn niblets, along with unrecognizable remnants of Kevin’s dinner, were embedded in the fibres, until it seemed I was only making things worse. From the street, Kevin and Leah asked me for some dry paper towels to try and get cleaner. I stood up and handed them the rest of my stack. Then I turned to Gwen. “I’m so sorry about your car. I know it’s probably the last thing you want to do right now, but is there any chance you would still give us a ride?” She stared at me. “It’s okay,” she said “We’ve all been there.” Forget the BS West dancer and his banana hammock full of ones. This was an angel. If I could, I would’ve given her a million dollars. But I was out of money so, instead, I pointed to Kevin and said “Charge him whatever it costs to get it clean.” We piled back into the car, which smelled so sour that Gwen insisted on driving with the windows down. As we merged onto the highway Kevin was slumped over, saying how sorry he was. I could barely hear him over the sound of the wind whistling through the car, piercing my ear drums and sending Leah’s puke covered hair flying into her face.

When we arrived at the condo, Leah stripped naked and hopped in the shower. She was washing her hair when Kevin came in. He had taken off all his clothes. He sat on the toilet with his eyes closed for a few moments before standing up and stumbling to the bedroom. I put Leah’s clothes in the condo washing machine, unsure if they could be salvaged. I was lying in bed when Leah came out of the bathroom. She still smelled like puke, but I was too tired to care.

***

We had only slept a few hours when Rupert, fresh from his morning piss, hopped onto the bed and started licking us. I tried to sleep through it, but sunlight was leaking in through the condo’s still drawn shades, and so I was up. Kevin and Shomas emerged from their bedroom. Kevin spoke. “I am so sorry,” he said. He asked if we were hungry. We were and so we went to IHOP. I ordered eggs and bacon and tried not to look at the cutting marks on our waitress’ arm as she poured my coffee. It was another clear, hot day in Scottsdale. I watched the parking lot shimmer as we waited for the bill.

Back at the condo and sat around by the pool underneath a flat blue sky. A warm breeze whipped in off the desert, as the warden moon rose from its daily slumber for its nightly watch. “I haven’t partied like a rockstar like that in a long time,” said Kevin from his floatie. He was wearing a wide-brim sun hat, sunglasses and a Speedo with a geometric pattern on it. That afternoon, I fell asleep in my lounge chair listening to the Pixies.

Five days later, we caught an early morning flight to Los Angeles. I asked Leah to marry me shortly after we arrived. She said yes. We had managed to get all of Kevin’s puke out of her shirt.

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