if I listened to your lies would you say
I'm a man without conviction
i'm a man who doesn't know
how to sell a contradiction
you come and go
you come and go."
The dark bar felt cool and wet. There was good air circulation from many fans and what looked to be a new air-conditioning system partially exposed in the corner. Hugh, who I learned was the owner when he let me in earlier, was still whizzing around. His help had arrived and were busy blowing up balloons, laughing loudly as some popped. The sight of it all was causing me to feel drowsy but finally I heard a specialized knock on the back door.
"There's little D!" Hugh sung out.
"Oh good!" I thought, as I sat up in my chair.
Duardo came in cooly strolling from the back of the bar with a large, flowery drink in his left hand. I stood up to greet him, stretching out my hand to shake, not sure if he would be able to see my hand with his sunglasses on. As we shook hands his long fingernails poked at my wrist but I pretended not to notice and we sat down.
"You're early huh? I like that. I had a doctors appointment."
"Oh I see that," I said, pointing to the bandage on his forearm. "Are you OK?"
"Sure, I am," Duardo said. "Yes, the doctor was just checking my blood. The thing is, Jimmy boy, I'm a man who likes to help however I can. I wanted to help my family, but it seems like they don't want my help, so I guess I'll just help the town I love so much. This town. Our town. And, the thing is this town needs a ton of help and that's why I messaged you. I will be requiring an assistant. There's just too much work to be done here.
"Oh, I see," I said.
"Yes, I've been reading your blog and I think you have what it takes to be my assistant."
"Oh, that's great Mr. Martinez, but the thing is how much time will this be requiring as I have a city job. I'm sorry to have to ask this but what will it be paying?"
Little D tilted his head forward, his glasses sliding down low on his nose. His brown eyeballs stared at me, twitching. "Boy, this is the opportunity of a lifetime. I'm giving you a chance to learn the ropes. Real journalism. Journalism is a fast-paced game. I need a driver. My car is my office and I need to be available to answer phone calls and such.
"Oh, driving the puddle jumper?" I said.
"No, the puddle jumper is in the shop right now. If you want something to last, you have to do preventive maintenance.
"But how did you get here?" I asked.
"Of course, I have the funds to stay wherever I want but, for the present time, I am living above this bar. I like to stay connected with the streets. Are you with me or not?"
"WelI. think I should call my wife."
"Really? It's like that. You're pussy whipped?"
"Well, no," I said.
Duardo stood up and walked out the door, swinging it wildly. I followed him out into the unforgiving heat.