Escaping the Whirlwind (part 2)

Billy sat behind the old, cracked wooden counter of his favorite bar, Pharroh's. Pharroh's was quiet, had the smell of an old man's smoking jacket. It reminded him of his grandfather. When Billy was little he would curl up next to his grandfather, passed out on the couch after a long boring movie, and sleep with his head against his chest under an old, knitted blanket. The blanket smelled like spilt beer and cigarette ash, just like his favorite bar. Just like his favorite grandfather.
He sat alone with his eyes on the counter, waiting for the glass to go empty. A reason to once again raise his head. A reason to make eye contact with the regulars. They hated eye contact. Especially coming from a young fella that shouldn't be there. Not at that time of day. Not on their time. Part of him felt very uncomfortable for this very reason. The rest of him relished in it for the very same reason. After some time had passed, Billy had run into a few acquaintances that otherwise would have been overlooked, say in a place like the supermarket, but he was lonely, he was bored, and he was scared. He was scared of what to do next. Time had grabbed him and thrown him in a basement, yelling at him, "You'll never see your mommy and daddy ever again."
Amongst his old high school associates, was a girl. A girl who did not appear to fit into the scene. She had stuck herself into reality's cook book, ruining the soup that was his favorite bar.

"Hey, Billy right?"

Billy was drunk. Very drunk at this point and in no mood for conversation.

"Hi. Yeah! What's up...you?"

Billy had no idea who the girl was, but he felt socially obligated to pretend he knew who she was, even if it meant eventual embarrassment, or sticking to the lie for years to come.

"You don't remember me do you?"

Billy looked at her with one eye closed in hopes that once the two images superimposed and became one, his memory would have a fighting chance.

"Nope. Can't sssay da I do."

She laughed and turned quickly to her friends whispering something in their ears. Billy became superstitious and assumed the worst about the secret meeting. 'They must be making fun of me. Fuck you all. So what if I'm drunk?' he thought to himself.

"SO!"

The small group of associates that had gathered all turned and quieted hoping to discover what had happened. Billy realized his conscience had gotten the best of him and decided he had put in enough time to satisfy that particular day. The awkward moment had guided him semi-sober back to his car and somewhat safely, all the way home.

Jerry was Billy's occasional friend. Jerry was not just an acquaintance. Jerry could be great fun. Jerry could be introspective. Jerry could be the hero. Jerry could buy all of your drinks for the evening, and possibly get you surrounded by beautiful women. Jerry could also get you into big trouble. Jerry could get too drunk and end up giving you enough nipple twisters to send you to the hospital inquiring about nipple specialists and plastic surgery. Jerry could be very annoying. Jerry could be too much, but Jerry was never too little and too little, was how Billy was feeling the next day.
Billy had spent a grueling eight hours pushing boxes at the hobby store he worked at and the evening called to him. The couch had served its purpose. After two and a half hours blindly staring at early evening game shows, repeats, and talk shows, Billy had done something exciting. He had called Jerry.

"Yo!" Jerry said with poise and emphasis.

"Jerr-RY! Hey dude. I'm bored. ARRRRrrrre you-thinkin-what-I'm-thinkin," Billy said with a musical slow-to-quick rhythm that was always a little different every time he called Jerry. Jerry was exciting, so Billy felt he owed it to Jerry. The entertainment. Everyone needed it desperately.

"NNnnuthin. Racetrack?"

"Racetrack."

So there it was. A Monday evening, 6:30pm. Two 24 year olds were headed to the local Indian casino and racetrack, to be greeted by old men, old women, and ATM machines, begging for fun, begging to be entertained, aching for escape, praying for trouble, something to happen, something big, something terrible possibly-maybe they would win big-maybe they would lose big, but either way, this is where they knew they could turn a mundane Monday into something spectacular.