Stay gold, Ponyboy
-
The
Outsiders
When Tré came home, he found Rosie right where he’d left her
in bed, but showered, legs shaved, hair fixed. Tré rubbed his hands together and dove right in.
An hour or so later, Rosie said, “Do you want to go out
tonight?”
“What, like dinner?” asked Tré, dozing a little.
“No,” said Rosie. “I don't eat. My friend Hector is working the door at
Lobo and says he’ll get us in past the line.”
“Can we get dinner first,” said Tré. “Because I do eat and I’m starving.”
“Sure,” said Rosie.
“No one goes to Lobo before 11:00 anyway. Let’s go to Blue Moon and eat first.”
“11:00?” said Tré.
“All right but not too late, OK?
I have to work in the morning.”
“Oh, you’ll sleep when you’re dead,” said Rosie. “Come on
and take a shower with me. I
brought some decent shampoo over.”
They took a nice long shower and then got dressed. Rosie wore a black slip, with
motorcycle boots and red, red lipstick.
Tré wore Girbauds and his long jacket. They looked pretty great heading
out the door.
They got to the club a little after 11:00. The line-up to get in was about 20 people
deep. Rosie and Tré headed
straight to the front, where Rosie kissed Hector on the lips, introduced Tré to Hector
and rolled her eyes a little through their manly hand shake.
And then Rosie and Tré waltzed right into the club.
Neither Rosie nor Tré were lacking in confidence. In fact, they both had pretty healthy
opinions of themselves and each other.
They were young, good looking, cool and smart. They'd also just spent the last few days having spectacular sex, which tends to ratchet
self-esteem up to eleven.
When they showed up at Lobo, a prevailing sense of their own
special-ness tickled around their brains, not exactly landing in explicit
thought, but lingering around their personal periphery. They were, when they got to Lobo that
night, pretty pleased with the people they were.
But when they glided past those other 20 saps and felt their
jealous gazes, they looked at each other with the dawning realization that they
were the people everyone else wants to be. It was intoxicating and empowering. It was the cherry on top of their
really excellent week.
Tré put his arm around Rosie and they grinned at each other
as they sauntered in.
Inside, Lobo was all pulsing music and flashing lights and really good looking people, whom Rosie and
Tré still managed to easily outshine.
Thanks to Hector, they got a really good table, along with a table visit
from the manager. When they got up
to dance, the DJ gave them a shout out.
They had a blast. They
stayed until 4:00 am.
The only downside of the night was when the check came. The bill totaled up to about a quarter
of Tré’s monthly rent.
Nightclubbing has never been a thrifty pursuit. Tré didn’t have the cash to cover it,
so he put it all on his American Express.
He bounced back quickly from the shock of the bill, though,
when they got in the cab and Rosie climbed up on his lap, smiling, and handing
him her panties.
Tré’s alarm went off about two hours later. He dragged himself out of bed and into
a shower. He was exhausted, but
energized by the night he’d had and the person he was with Rosie. He was still grinning when he walked
into the office.
They shortly established a nightclubbing routine. Tré worked until 6:00, when he went home and took a 4-5 hour
nap while Rosie waitressed at The March. At 11:00 or 12:00, he came into The
March, had a Heineken and waited for Rosie. When she saw, Tré, she handed her cash envelope to Caleb and
then went to the bathroom to reapply her makeup and fix her hair. When she came out of the bathroom, they
left The March and headed to the clubs: Lobo, Smart Bar, Berlin, Neo. Their good looks and style, their
compelling inter-racialness, their growing reputations moved them to the front
of every line at every club.
Before long, they were stars of the scene, minor luminaries of the
Chicago nightlife. Every night
they sat at the best table with cocktails at the ready when they arrived.
They partied and danced at the clubs with a widening circle
of admirers and hangers on. They
charmed and amused until it was time to head to whatever after hours was
hosting that night. Then Tré paid
the bill. Tré liked to pay the
bill. At the after hours, their
circle narrowed to only the hippest among them. At around 6:00 in the morning, they headed back to Tré’s,
where they made sleepy love. And
then Rosie fell asleep.
And Tré went back to work.
