My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys

The Marquee and I are eating Barbeque at KC’s and he’s telling me about the disaster of Merteuil’s night out. She and the Tech both got drunk early on. Her husband and the Tech’s girlfriend—who were not drunk—got bored and left early. Not only did Merteuil not spoil things with the Tech’s sideline hook-up girls, she and the Tech went home with one of them. It’s unclear to the Marquee whether or not they had a three-way.

‘You don’t suppose her husband’s sleeping with the Tech’s new girlfriend?’ I ask the Marquee, dipping my pulled pork sandwich in the sauce.

‘The way Merteuil tells it,’ the Marquee says, ‘hubby ain’t got no sex drive.’

‘Maybe just not with her,’ I say, ‘Maybe he’d become Keith Moon if he was with someone else.’

The Marquee doesn’t buy my argument. I dig into my baked beans.

‘Here comes your man,’ the Marquee says.

I look up and around and don’t see anyone. He nods at the television and I see they’re playing Columbo.

‘I love this guy,’ I say, grinning.

‘How’s Birmingham,’ the Marquee asks.

‘Haven’t heard anything,’ I say, shrugging and putting more of the sandwich in my mouth. ‘Saw him out the other night. He gave an upright, non-moving wave and then looked away. I guess that’s done.’

‘Too bad. He was cool,’ he says. ‘Stockholm?’

‘She’s going to stay in Montgomery with her ex-boyfriend,’ I say, chewing and half-laughing, ‘Make me an angel that flies to Montgomery.’

‘And dear Chicago?’ the Marquee asks, grabbing some of my fries.

‘I think the thing you said was true,’ I say, ‘I’m going to die alone and sad.’

‘There must be some mistake,’ the Marquee says, opening up his sandwich and examining its contents, ‘I didn’t order this with extra melodrama.’

‘You don’t like music, do you?’ I laugh, swigging back the rest of my beer. ‘Let’s go back to my place. I’ll play you some you might enjoy and we can drink bourbon.’

He belches and agrees.