I'm adjusting my tie in the decked out Mens' room as my dad enters clearing his throat seeking my immediate attention. I plaster on a smile, it is his night after all. A dinner is being thrown in his honor. Even though we all know theirs no honor in politics. My father, Robert Rooosevelt, my pretentious father, their glorious mayor is being honored for his money. It's mainly a party to bridge together money and prestige, not a hard thing to do.
Dad approaches the mirror checking his teeth for food. “Don't make an ass out of me tonight,”he mutters under his breath before plastering on his own smile. I grin as I remember the last time he asked me not to make an ass out of him. He had his lawyer buddies over for some brews and a game of darts. I excelled at dart throwing I could have easily made him look like an amateur even though he wasn't a bad dart thrower either. My father isn't a loser, only a horrible cheat, so he forced me to lose on purpose
his colleagues were quite impressed. If I would played to my full potential I would have blown dad out of the water.
As I wash my hands I lower my head allowing my hair to curtain my face so he can't see me grinning from ear to ear. I still can't escape a bitter comment; “Max are you a girl?”
“No sir.” I answer knowing exactly where this is going.
“ Are you a rock star?” And if anyone else asked me this question the answer would be yes, but with him it's always no. In his busy world theirs no time for jokes or sarcasm.
I shake my head, “No.”
“Than cut your hair, your not in a 90s grundge band Max.” He says before leaving.
I run my hand through my longish tresses. Even Dad knows I'm not going to cut my hair anytime soon. It's almost routine, every time he gets stressed or anxious he picks o my hair for whatever reason.
I exit slowly behind him and tunnel through the movers and the shakers. It's a black and white affair so I have a hard time seeking out Courtney amongst the other bleached blonde heads.
“Over here!” She waves, she's sitting down at my father's table chatting up some of the other socialites. I grin from ear to ear. She smiles back flirtatiously, not knowing the real reason I'm smiling. Courtney Stachio is wearing white a color meant to symbolize purity.
The orchestra starts up and Courtney grabs my hand to slow dance. I guide her majestically to the middle of the dance court. Everyone smiles in approval. It is a picture perfect scene after all, I am the prince where else should I be but in the dead center. And Courtney..... well she's got that princess attitude dead on, she's cool so long as she doesn't open her mouth.
“So Babe?” She starts off, and I notice she's actually chewing bubble gum. How tacky?
“Someday this dinner could be thrown in your honor right? Like our honor?”
I stop dancing. I don't correct the error of her ways by saying A. We've been dating two weeks calm down Skippy? B. I don't share my honor or C. Who says this is what I want anyways?
“I'm going to get some air,” I announce. Her glossified smile falters a little.
I come in after I finish my cigarette I catch the tail end of dad's speech, on the new housing development he just approved. He thanks everyone for being here saying what an honor it was and a bunch of other lies. By the time he was done, I was half tempted to go on another cigarette break. But Courtney cornered me before I could make my escape.
“Hey. Want to go by my place ? My parents aren't home right now.”
And so I spent the better half of the night swapping spit with bubble gum brains. “Stay longer,” she whines a couple hours later.
“I have to stop at the gas station before it closes, I'll catch you tomorrow.”
“Come on there's plenty of gas stations open later tonight.”
“Yea but there all self serve.” is my argument.