Canadian Pizza...

A Chapter by Judas Hammer

It was a long night. I finished the night expelling my Canadian pizza into some bushes

Canadian Pizza

These women in Long Beach knew how to capture the drink, as they circle all the straight bars and maybe a gay one hoping for a Butch, baggy jean tomboy to splurge for some White Russians. All that was required was a quick a*s grab and kiss on the n****e. They came in packs of three’s sometimes fours, entered the bars and scouted around looking for the older men. Looking for the desperate eyes of men past there prime, but have just cashed Fridays check from the Docks. With eager pupils they search, wiggling though the young, hopeless, twenty something, live at home, skate park boys, nursing a cheap import, while hoping to bum a game of pool. Seeing nothing they leave with heavy, quick steps to the next bar with the hope of wooing: drunk, fat men into buying three round and a couple bags of stale chips hanging behind the bar.

These women never interested me. They were universal. Every city, state and Parish has these harpies. They usually get older and then get jobs at the same bar they used to patrols as younger lionesses taking them over, with low cut shirts, black tights and high heels that added an extra five inches.

I sat at the bar and pulled out my money. I engaged the longhaired bartender that look liked he stepped off the stage with a Stone Temple Pilots cover band. I ordered a Jack and Coke, I like to go in hard and the Kentucky boy did that for me. No playing around let’s get to the point and the point to get numb faced and happy. He made a strong one; I finished in less then a minute.

The thirst was here! Watch out Bar Crawl.

I asked the bartender what was the strongest drink her could make.

“An Adios Mutherfucker”

“I’ll take that!”

I had befriended a fat, gay hair dresser who was missing a front tooth and wearing a gray fedora with his all black out fit. He knew everyone and introduced me to an Asian School teacher who seemed more interested in the regulars on the other side. She barley could keep her attention on the handshake fearing she might miss part of the bar banter. The hairdresser was an alright guy but he kept feeling on my arms and commenting on my body.

“Wow you’re in really good shape.” He said as his glazed eyes watered over.

I again felt my comfort zone being invaded. I didn't contest the advance but choose the way of avoidance and exited the bar after taking my Adios Mutherfucker to the head, then stepping in the darkness of Fourth Street. Hunger punched me in the gut. I knew a pizzeria called Canadian Pizza which was to the left a few stores down. I never even knew Canadian made pizza. Did the Romans make it to the Great White North? I didn’t know the Italian to be fans of snow and ice. That was almost there down fall with Hannibal I do believe.

I stumbled bravely to the Kanuck Pizza Parlor filled to the brim with liquid courage. I entered the small, well lit lobby and was stopped by a Mexican pizza flipper.

“We are closed.”

“Come on man I just want a small pizza.”

“Okay 15 minutes.”

I sat out side on a small white chair and waited. I couldn't wait to eat that Pizza. I love experimenting with different food from different regions or the same food from a different region. I like food as long as it tasted good and when drunk most tasted just fine. I reclined in the lawn chair and almost feel over several times.

I saw the traffic from Ferns to the Red Room was pretty steady with young couple arm and arm with usually a male third wheel dragging behind. My theory on the third wheel was this: A third wheel was usually a guys friend cool to hang out with but not good enough for any of the girl's friend and he was too weak to say no to his friend who was usually the Alpha male. Or the third well was a sneaky fiend that had tiny talk with the girl usually wearing her brain down. Then when the main boyfriend fell short he moved in due to the fact he hung around so much he had the game plan. Genuis! A masterplan! Or weak man who should fall on his dagger and play with the boys at the Broadway or allow the Bears to feast on him at the Mineshaft.

The cook stuck his head out of the door.

“Pizza is done.”

He handed me the box and I opened it quickly shoving a piece in my waiting mouth as if it was the last piece of pizza on earth. The thick, white cheese burnt the top of my mouth. I continued to eat all four piece before I reached Orange Ave. I crossed at the red light and reached halfway down the street when my mouth went dry and stomach rumbled. It was like the beginning of a storm. I knew what was in store for me and I dreaded what was about to happen.

I walked toward a group of bushes on the side of an apartment complex. I lead over and expelled eight dollars of barley digested Canadian pizza. All the grease and Pizza must have been too much for my stomach. I threw everything up. I felt like a child as the food landed on the shrubbery. I was just glad it was dark and no one could see such a weak fool's act. I stumbled down the street on my way to Sweetwaters.

I had been to Sweetwater once on business and twice for please. Once with the Brit downing Mimosa early one morning and the other was with the Doc drinking Blue Moon on the far end of the long bar during better times. I was told on a couple of occasions that was a bar where gay and straight got together and hung out in Harmony. It was also a reputed group sex pick up place were again gay and straight got together and mixed orientations. When I had visited on a few rare times I just witnessed skinny gay boys skipping around while fat, bull lesbian played Pool like girls.

I started to regain my balance slightly and turned the corner. I saw Cory face to face with an officer inside of a squad car,

“We’re watching you Cory. We are going to get your a*s!”

Long Beach police again at their finest. I grabbed Cory by the shoulders and moved him away from the police. I don’t want him to receive the beating it looked like the nice man in blue wanted to deliver. A nice boot to his face to end an average night. We walked away and back around the corner. We walked around Broadway and Cory calmed. I suggested we go into a bar. It was then be informed me he was banned from all the bars on the strip, due to the fact he kept selling drugs inside the establishments.

Ty later told me he would sell drugs, his body and get violently drunk and start acting wild. All the gay bars got to together and banned him from entry or being outside of the club. The only club he was still allowed to loiter around was the Falcon. Their security guards were just shirt wearers with little ability to protect themselves much less a club full of drinking and dancing partiers.

We went to the Falcon and hung outside for a little while. The Falcon was a Broadway landmark. It seemed like a party every day of the week. The inside was small but there was always flashing lights, loud techno music, and music videos on the screen: always with some man with his shirt off.

We exited and walked to the liquor store and I offered to buy Cory some food if he wanted. I knew the feeling to be hungry and out on the street. We went inside and he threw various candy bars on the counter like a little kid. I grabbed some Jack and coke like a grown idiot craving trouble.

We strolled down the street side by side. Broadway was alive with Gay men of all varieties strutting up and own the street enjoying the pre summer night. Mostly in groups of four or more with a straight girl tagging along as bait.

Cory and i weaved through the crowd on our way to the park. I didn’t know why he was going to the park but he insisted we go. I left him at the edge of the park and went back to the Villa. I stopped by the Falcon to see if I could make eye contact with any female refugees trying to escape the straight savage men outside on the bus bench. I gave them eye contact and they gave me the back of their head. I guess that’s the way the night was going to go.

I walked back to the condo tired and slightly sick from that Canadian pizza. Dayum those Canadians! They should stick to Ice hockey and free medical care. When they start dabbling in the art of the pizza pie the end of the world is just around the corner.

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© 2013 Judas Hammer

Author's Note

Another Chapter....Let me know what you think. No much action, just a tour hopefully making adding more description to the area and more information to the character Cory and main Characters state of mind,,,

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Featured Review

Coyote Poetry

I never heard of Canadian pizza either. They have outstanding beer and good looking woman. I like the description of the bars. Funny how location had it personality. Each bar with different kinds of people wanting more or less. No weakness in the story. I have been marry 20 years. I still miss roaming the bars. Was always something fun to do and learn. Thank you for the excellent tale.
Coyote