“He who does not travel does not know the value of men.” – Moorish proverb

Earlier in the week Howard was diagnosed with Sleep Apnea. On Wednesday he was fitted for his CPAP machine and taught how to use it. Its rubber straps wrapped around his bald head and the met with a rubber hose at an intersection in the middle of his face. The hose ran down to a cylindrical contraption about the size of a gym bag.  He asked us what we all thought of it. Thompy said, “You know the vacuum on Teletubbies?” While we were doubled over in hysterics, Howard was just shaking his head and trying to maintain his dignity.

“When he’s wearing that mask all I can think is…” I cupped my hands and put them over my mouth and then said in my best Sean Connery impersonation, “I am Chicago’s reckoning.” They all started laughing. “You merely adopted the darkness. I SHLEEP in it!”

The weekend arrived swiftly. Friday night the blokes and I went out to Wriggleyville again. We got on the train and sat down. The topic at hand was how effortlessly they could pick up chicks in America just because of their accents. “Alright, I’ve got an idea.” Said Matt. “Tonight we’re going to get ‘Jarvis’ laid.”
Thompy voiced his approval “Yeah, let’s get some ‘slutes’ for Jarvis.”
“Yeah. Okay.” I said.
“What? Why not?”
“The moment you say hello, the game’s over. It’s like ‘Heyo, how ya goin’?’ and BOOM! Pregnant.”

The AVAS system on the train interrupted the conversation. “Doors closing. The next stop is Jarvis.” We all exchanged glances, equally as stunned.
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” I said. “I must have misheard that.” I got up and wandered over to the map. Sure enough, we got on at the “Howard” stop and were headed to “Jarvis.”

We met James just outside of the Belmont stop. We had a few drinks and then headed to my favorite bar in the neighborhood, Delilah’s. Delilah’s is a punk bar on Lincoln. It was there that we met Madison and Lindsay. The guys seemed to be indicating to me that I should choose one of them. It felt like the subject of a Nature program. I slid on over to Lindsay. “Hey. I don’t think we’ve been introduced.” I said.
“I’m Lindsay.” She replied. Matt was sitting in my peripheral nodding his head emphatically.
“I’m Jarvis.” I shouted, over the music. Matt’s hand flew up to his mouth to hide his expression and he immediately rested his elbow on the table and pretended to gaze out the window. It was not the most masterful attempt to conceal laughter I’d ever witnessed.

We spent the rest of the evening together and I was getting some strong signals from Lindsay. We seemed to be hitting it off. At the end of the night, we were standing outside and Madison was giving her play-by-play to Lindsay about the evening thus far. “I would CHEAT on my boyfriend right now to fuck one of these Australians!” I rolled my eyes. There it was. I didn’t stand a chance as long as they were around. “I’m too drunk.” She said. “Let’s get a cab.”

Before they left we all took pictures together. When it came time for Lindsay and I to have our picture taken, I put my arm around her. She moved in close. Madison was sitting in the back of the taxi shouting at her. “Lindsay, LET’S GO!” James got in position with his camera.

“Okay. On 3…” he said. I decided to go for it. I put finger on her chin and turned her head toward me. I closed my eyes and leaned in. I felt her pull away.
“What?! I’m not going to KISS you!”
I burst out in laughter. “Well, it was worth a shot.” I said.
“What the FUCK!” Madison’s protests could still be heard behind us. James made sure to take an extra long time taking my picture with Lindsay. We said goodbye and called it a night.

On Saturday morning Thompy made crepes for us. He showed Howard his recipe and how simple it is to make them. Howard said, “This is nice because I usually go to a place called ‘The Creperie.’ Now I can make them at home for cheap.”

I couldn’t resist myself. “‘The Creperie?’ It sounds like a place I would go to dispose of my waste.” At breakfast we asked Howard how his CPAP machine was treating him.
“Well.” He replied. “I came up with a name for it. I’m calling it my Parole Officer.” He began chuckling and looking around expectantly. Thompy said what we were all thinking: “Why?”
“Because a Parole Officer is the person that’s assigned to you when you get in trouble with the law and you have to do community service.” This was not a suitable explanation in my opinion.
“Yeah, but how does that apply to the CPAP machine?” I asked.
“Because Sleep Apnea is when you stop breathing for short spells in your sleep and I have to wear this mask on my face. It detects when I stop breathing and it takes my breaths for me. When I had my test done I stopped breathing 17 times in one hour!” These still seemed like two disjointed thoughts. Maybe it was over my head.

The day had gotten off to a great start. Around noon the guys and I all headed downtown. We split off to do our own thing. I sat in a Starbucks and began working on a Linux project I had been putting off. Around 3 I got a call from my sister. “SEEZDAR!” I exclaimed.
“Hey, how are you Brodder?”
“Doing well.”
“I’m calling you because we’re in Chicago. Why don’t you answer your texts?”
“I must have missed them. I’ll check my phone’s sound settings. I’m sorry. Where are you?”

“We’re in Wrigleyville. We’re about to leave. I just thought you might be interested to know what scene I’m witnessing up here though. There must be some sort of lingerie contest or something at The Houndstooth Saloon. There are a bunch of women dressed scantily clad running around in 20 degree weather. It seemed like something my pervert brother would be into so I thought I would inform you.”

“Oh my god, thank you! I’ve got to go!” I sent out a group text to James and the blokes. “Gather the troops! Slutes in Wriggleyville.” Matt and Thompy called for the details. I boarded the nearest Red Line subway and was northbound immediately. On the way I got a text from Thompy.
“Matt wants to know if your sister is part of this lingerie contest.”
I replied “Tell him he can choke on a black dick.”

When I got off of the train they were right outside. “Gentlemen!” I shouted, and they turned around. I shook their hands. “I’ve brought you here on a hot tip. Now let’s give these girls some hot tips.” We moseyed on to The Houndstooth. There were indeed scantily-dressed women running around everywhere. We went to walk in and the bouncer stopped us.

“Private party. Come back after 5.” We instead went to The Blarney Stone and played a round of pool.

Thompy and Doyle observe this tradition where if one of them looses in a game of pool without sinking a single ball, he must drop his pants around his ankles and do a lap around the table. This was exactly the situation Matt found himself in. He put a dollar in the jukebox and pounded his beer. Thompy and I petitioned him. “Well come on, then.” Said Thompy.

“Yeah, don’t bitch out on us!” I said.
“No, I won’t. I’m just waiting for a certain part in the song.” Sure enough, his part came. He got his hands in position.

“Drop ’em!” I said. “Come on, get it over with.” This drew the attention of many of the bar patrons who turned to see what was going on. Matt pulled his pants down around his ankles and began his waddle of shame. His synchronization of the song was off, and it ended about 1/4 into his lap. There was dead silence in the bar and just about everyone was now staring at him as he hobbled around the pool table. When he got back to his starting point he abruptly pulled his trousers up and we made a b-line for the door.

We met with James briefly and discussed our plans for later. James was to go to a friend’s party but he said that he definitely wanted to meet with us at some point.

—

That night we found ourselves in Wicker Park. The blokes and I tossed back a fifth of Captain Morgan in an alley together and proceeded to party. We were at a lounge with a balcony level where we were seated. A couple of ladies wandered past us looking for an open seat. Thompy invited them to sit with us. They began to talk and Thompy explained that he didn’t like everybody sitting in a row at American bars but much preferred floor seating. “You know, if I want to go an’ say g’day to some bird who wants to say g’day to me…”

The girls exchanged glances and one of them shrugged a cute little shrug as they both chuckled. They were spellbound. It was going to be another “rusty third wheel” night for me. The conversation inevitably led to where they were staying and the girls asked about my travels. “So why are you staying with Howard?” they asked.

“Welp. I’m currently putting together a documentary about whether it is possible to disappear in today’s technological age. I was caught accessing a server I used to manage for my old workplace and was brought in for questioning. That’s when I split. There’s a warrant out for my arrest.”
Everybody’s mouths dropped. Thompy was equally as shocked. “No shit, Jarvis? I didn’t know we were keeping the company of a fugitive!”
“Yeah, did you notice that I’ve been paying for everything with cash?”
“Come to think of it, yeah. You’re right. So what if you get caught?”
“Well I’m not bringing danger to anyone around me. They would just cuff me and take me away. I’m not a violent offender. Plus, it’s not like I hacked government or anything. It’s just the local PD looking for me. No FBI that I know of yet.”

We talked for a little while longer and then wandered into a night club called “Debonair.” Immediately when we walked through the doors, I knew I was home. There were flat panel LCDs on the walls showing sinister images with vector backdrops which corresponded to the music playing. The sound was like a cross between Dubstep and Darkwave. The bass was deep and penetrated your very being. My whole body absorbed the vibration as though it were inciting me to move with it.

I wandered away from the rest of the group and just began to float through the crowd, assimilating into the noir ambiance. The bodies around me seemed to move in slow motion. The lights pulsated with the music. There was a wall of color in the very back which juxtaposed the silhouettes of people  dancing uninhibitedly.

The women in this place were all leather-clad and menacing. As I drifted past a glance would be exchanged. Their eyes were full of hunger. These women were dangerous. Just my type.

I went downstairs. Above the stairwell there was a white resin horse bust mounted and illuminated from inside so that it glowed red. “This club is my home.” I thought to myself. “It is where I belong.”

James sent me a text around midnight. He was headed my direction. “What’s the name of the place?” He asked.
“Debonair.” I replied. “I’ll meet you outside.”
I walked outside right as he was walking past. I reached out and touched his arm. “James.”
“Oh, holy shit. This is it, huh?”
“Yeah. How did you get here so quickly? I mean how did you know we were here.”
“I got a text from your friend. Not Matt. The other one. I forgot his name. I have him in my phone as ‘Aussie 1.'”
“Weird.” I said. I pulled out my phone and opened a recent text I had received from Thompy. “Aussie No. 1” was in the “From:” section.
“Are you fucking with me?” James asked.
“How could I have set that up? C’mon, let’s go.” We headed inside.

Once inside, James got us a round. He struck up conversation with a very attractive girl with dark hair and red lipstick. He introduced us. Her name was Sam. She seemed to be very affectionate toward him. She was touching his face and talking in his ear. James disappeared for a moment to go to the restroom and her friends came and gathered her up.

I was too far away to say goodbye but I could see her looking around as her friends led her out. Joe came back looking confused. I told him that her friends came and got her and they left. “C’est la vie.” he said. “These things are fleeting. I didn’t expect anything different to be honest” but the disappointment in his voice indicated otherwise.

We decided to go too. That’s when I was faced with an ultimatum. James invited me to go to Barrelhouse Flat with him and meet our mutual childhood friend, Lily. I had prior commitments to go to church at the Moody Bible Institute the following morning with Howard.

I told Thompy, “You know what, the main reason I even agreed to go to church in the first place is so that Howard might be more inviting to me being there thinking that I could be ‘saved.’ Fuck him. I’ve been putting up with him all week. I don’t care if I burn my bridges with him now. I just don’t want to put you guys in the position to bare the bad news.”

Thompy replied, “Well that’s fine. We’ll just tell him that you stayed at your friend’s house. End of story. It’s not like we have to lie about it or anything.”

“Yeah, but you’re going to get to listen to him whine about it. I don’t have to put up with it after tomorrow. I can just come and get my stuff while you guys are in church. You’re the ones who have to deal with him for another day.”

Matt piped in. “Mate, you’re going to meet a bird, are you?”
“Yeah, a friend.”
“Go then. It’s not even an issue.”
And so I did. When we arrived at Barrelhouse Flat, Lily was outside. She turned around and saw us approaching. She threw her arms around me. “Oh, my GOD!” She put her hands on my shoulders and asked, “What are you doing here?”
“I live here now.” I said.

Again she flung her arms around me and jumped up and down with elation. She grasped even tighter and tucked her head into my shoulder and gave me a sweet little kiss on the neck. Lily is like that. She loves deliberately and without restraint. It isn’t anything sexual or even romantic. She is just very compassionate toward the people she cares about.

The night was drawing to an end, and I had run out of money. James bought me another drink and we caught a cab back to his house, which he also paid for. I pulled out the sleeper sofa and lay down. He went to grab some blankets. When he returned I said, “Thanks again, James. I really didn’t mean for you to pay for all of that stuff tonight, I’ll get you back once I’m on my feet. Also, thanks for putting me up.” He frowned at me with disapproval and shook his head.

“Do you remember when we were kids and we used to get ready for the school dances together?” James asked.
“Yeah.” I said.
“Do you recall the time that we stood in front of your mirror and you taught me how to tie a tie?”
“Yeah, I think I do now that you mention it. It was the mirror attached to my dresser in my bedroom, right?” He nodded his head.

“Goodnight, my friend.” He said, then shut off the light.