Re-Marg-able
Margi is one of my best friends from college. I think at one time she may have been a sweet little girl, but by the time I met her she was a bartender at the Wash Pub, a laundrymat/lounge combination in Greenville, NC frequented by ex-cons and lowlifes. I was one of them. I had a pretty big hand in turning her to the dark side, but we never dated. I did one or ten times call her while a date still was with me and put the two of them on together to chat. (yeah I know, I said I was a lowlife.) I think if we had ever become more than friends we would have killed each other, as it was we had a few doozies of fights. We always came back together again though. I helped her move... several times, I did stuff around the house for her, protected her from other lowlifes (lower even than me), and pissed off all of her boyfriends... all of them... Every one... as often as possible.
I also became "token guy". This can be a hateful gig sometimes, it can also be a blast if you handle it right. For those who don't know, a "token guy" goes along on a girl's night out. NOT as one of the group, but as a chauffeur/bodyguard. My job was to sit at the end of the bar and watch them for the forefinger-thumb L for loser sign. Then I would come over and pretend to be boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, old friend, brother, whatever until the loser goes away. Then I would go back to the bar and drink and watch. Once I had found a wedding band on the beach and wore it on my right hand until it got lost... (By lost I mean stolen and sold for drugs by an ex-roomate) a week or so later at the Attic Margs was being hit on by this big redneck. I went over grabbed the beer he had bought for her and took a big 'ol swig of it. He looked down at me and said, "I bought that for her" I held up my left hand with the newly transfered shiny gold band and asked why he was buying my wife beers. I'm not sure how far he thought he would get buying a girl Millwalkee's Beast anyway. I was not allowed to make any moves on the carload of drunk girls I was with, but in return I got set up on dates &tc. Margi in particular pimped me out on multiple occasions.
One of my jobs back in the old days was QA Inspector for a company that made cases for Night Vision goggles for the military. We also made and assembled hardside gun cases and the like. I only worked there for a short time, but one of the things they tried to get into was Maritime Emergency Lights. Basicly a MEL was an encased lightbulb (sometimes xenon) with a lithium battery. Watertight bubble with exposed contact points. If you made the connection, say with your fingers, the light would come on. They were designed to light up when they were emersed in liquid, ie over the side of a boat. One Friday I put a handfull of them in my Jacket pockets to play with over the weekend. I went out for Pizza with the guys. We ordered a pitcher of beer. I dropped one of the lights in, and called the waitress back to the table. "Hey, I think you gave us light Beer" She looked down into the pitcher and was shocked to see the brew glowing golden. (I sometimes wonder how often my food used to get spit on... and maybe still does. Hmmmm.)
Saturday Margs gave me a call. One of those "token guy" deals. I picked up the girls and off we went to the bars. I was drinking Bourbon and Coke (some things don't change) remembered the lights in my pocket and dropped one in my drink. Bing! Suddenly I'm more than Token Guy. I passed these things out to all the girls, and sat back to watch. Margs was the best. She had ordered this big dark drink in a Bahama Mama glass and had one of those lights in it... It was glowing red in the center... And she was explaining to everyone that it was a layered drink and they set one of the middle layers on fire, then poured the rest on top. A couple bartenders must have gone nuts trying to figure out what those people were trying to order.
Margs is a little waif of a girl and she was wearing a white blouse and a lace bra. By the end of the night she was surrounded by a big group of guys and my protective instincts kicked in. I pushed my way to the front of the group in time to see Margs with her "high beams" on. She had two of those lights inside her bra, and every time one of them would go out she'd take it out and lick it to make it come back on. I think she was hated by every girl in the bar that hadn't come with us by the time we left.
I don't really have a good ending for this story, It never really ends. I still talk to her from time to time. We're both still evil people. I sure do miss her.
*(I took the above picture of margi at her house when I was hanging something or fixing something. She wouldn't ever let me take a picture of her, so I cheated. It's out of focus and blurry, but it's one of my favorite pictures that I ever took.)
side note: Just so you know Rabbit, you're next...
Labels: Tasteless Stories
2 Comments:
Can't you think of better things to talk about than me...I do remember most of the stuff you talked about this time. Like sitting in Boli's on fifth street with one of those lights in a pitcher of beer. Hate you don't have a picture of Margi, she was a babe. So guess what. I finally got a promo. I now are a Validation specialist. No more Metrology. Take care.
Rabbit
Sorry, Rabbit. everybody from back then gets one. You, Dave, me and a cast of thousands... It's cheaper than therapy. Don't worry, I know your mom as well as mine reads this. Margi still is a babe, I saw her, Doc and Dave last June on the grand Jeep tour home. She's back in Raleigh now.
Post a Comment
<< Home