Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
This is the Doctrine’s contribution to the Six Sentence Story bloghop.
Hosted by Denise, constrained by a sentence limit (high and low) of six, there are worse ways to spend the remaining time you have on earth.
Prompt word:
LACE
“Fuckin’ Devereaux, you really kill me sometimes, you know that? Spend half as much time in the world out here,” Lou waved his ever-present cigar in my direction, pretty much organized crime’s version of a bishop’s benediction, “As you do in that giant brain of yours;” more telling of the man seated in the last booth on the Lounge side of the Bottom of the Sea Strip Club & Lounge was that he never, for even a second, broke eye contact with me; “you might find yourself less in need rescuing from time-travel hitmen lacin’ your double latte, frappa-fuckin’-chinos with god knows what.”
And, as any zoologist, psychologist or criminologist will advise that for certain forms of life, establishing eye contact is a no-win strategy, this group includes but is not limited to: crocodiles, wolves, polar bears and Great White sharks.
Fortunately for me, Lou Caesare chose to laugh and, like the sounds of the above cited predators, it combined the best parts of defiance of an innately hostile world, triumph over adversaries and a simple reminder of how short life can be.
“And not for nothin’ if your predicament had caused my hostess,” the Owner of the Bottom of the Sea had this thing that I could never figure out, maybe it was just knowing the other person or their routines, but when he mentioned Diane’s name, she looked back at us, despite being at the front entrance at her station, “…Mz Florence Nightingale to be… inconvenienced in any way, you and I would be having a more private conversation;”
I turned in time to see Diane telegraph a scolding smile to Lou that, for anyone else in the city, would come in second to ‘punch the shark on the nose, they hate that and will leave you alone’.
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About clarkscottroger
Nice description of Lou and his cigar waving: “organized crime’s version of a bishop’s benediction”
Diane, err Florence Nightingale, seems to be completely in charge.
thanks Frank… suspect the reference to Miz Nightingale might be lost on some of our less-old Readers
Lou might be right about spending too much time inside his own head, but what else is a thinker to do?
this is a true statement
You know there is someone else there, and she might like a little puff with that fat cigar… just a quick one (maybe).
lol
Lou, for all his faults, is quite open-minded, would not begrudge any guest at his establishment
That’s what happens when there are too many Scotts in a room— a sonic boom.
lol
Nice, my dad used to smoke Cuban cigars in his office, one door down from the dental hygienist room. I always got a kick out of the Lysol used to try and cover the smell.
Thank you
This has got to be one of the most intense descriptions of a laugh I have ever read,
‘ it combined the best parts of defiance of an innately hostile world, triumph over adversaries and a simple reminder of how short life can be.’- I want to develop this as a characteristic of my own personality!
ikr?
I could smell the Cuban and sense the atmosphere – I even dared to laugh along!
you, imo, would simply fit right in (with the crowd at the Bottom of the Sea)…
Ian and Lou, can’t call it a friendship, it’s more they enjoy a pleasant symbiotic relationship. Lou chewing Ian out tells me he has a soft spot for both Diane and Ian.
The gravity contributes to exciting events.