Follow the link below to read part 6 of this short story.
The headliner for the weekend was a popular New York comic. Mason had run into him a few times around the city over the last year. The last time was at a diner where they were both waiting for a table for one, so they decided to sit together. During the meal, he told Mason he had recently started attending AA meetings, and found it less tempting to limit his club exposure to the time he would be working. Hence, Mason wasn’t surprised when he arrived only five minutes prior to show time last night, and suspected it would be the same tonight. His prior antics while under the influence of alcohol had cost him a lucrative writing deal for a popular late night television show, but it was because of this that he gave up drinking. The news made the rounds pretty quickly, so most comics knew and understood that they would be seeing very little of him when featuring or hosting for him. For a while at least.
Junior and Mason arrived at the club early enough to have a beer with a few of the local comics. Junior stepped outside briefly to have a cigarette with a friend and returned with a big grin on his face.
“Hey, Mason… guess who’s here?”
“Calvin?” Calvin was the headliner.
“Guess again.”
“My wife?”
Junior paused to consider this, obviously forgetting he had never met Mason’s wife. Clearly, the alcohol was starting to take effect, and Mason was getting annoyed with this game already.
Mason interrupted Junior’s thoughts, “Just tell me. I don’t want to play this game all night.”
Junior didn’t even appear to notice Mason’s tone. “The couple in the Charger,” he answered, his grin turned devilish.
Mason couldn’t hide his sudden interest, “Oh yeah??”
“Oh, now you’re interested,” Junior clapped back.
“Yeah, yeah… did you see them?”
“Oh yeah. She’s blonde. Pretty hot, too.”
“Did you see where they’re seated in the showroom?”
“Naw. There’s a line a mile long out there. I watched them pull in and waited long enough to get a look at them. It’s kinda funny. She looks like a classy chick. The kind you’d never suspect would do the sort of thing we saw.”
“Yeah… those are the best ones. Damn. I hate I missed them.”
“I’ll keep my eyes open during the show,” Junior promised.
* * * * *
While the staff was seating patrons, “The Chargers” took advantage of the time by engaging in affectionate… family friendly… PDA.
The Chargers were seated at a table near the back, close enough that they would be able to see the stage without much trouble, but far enough away that it would be harder for Mason to see them from the stage. After they were seated, Miss Charger glanced quickly over the menu, and decided on a glass of red wine. She stopped a passing host to ask the whereabouts of the bathrooms then excused herself, asking Mr. Charger to order for her if the server arrived before she returned.
From the back of the club, Junior had located the couple and conveyed their location to Mason, but she had already left the table by the time Mason arrived by Junior’s side, waiting to be introduced.
“Well, he looks like a douche,” Mason announced.
“I thought the same thing,” Junior laughed, swaying from side to side.
“Junior, you’d better slow down on those. I don’t want to babysit you tonight. Or any night for that matter.”
“I’m good, I’m good.” Junior answered, but after noticing Mason’s genuine concern, he promised to slow down and have a couple glasses of water after finishing his beer.
Mason was introduced, and he took the stage to start his hosting set. Miss Charger was still in the bathroom when he was called up. From the stage, Mason tried to locate the table he knew to be hers but was disoriented by the stage lights.
He was a couple minutes into his set and getting a lot of laughs, when he heard a familiar voice call out from the showroom, “Mason!?!?!”
Mason froze in his spot, immediately recognizing the voice as that of his wife, Erica. “Erica?!?!”
As Erica neared the stage, Mason could feel his heart race as her figure came into view.
“Erica! What are you doing here?” Mason asked, in an obvious state of shock. He could feel a wave of panic wash over him.
Erica returned his stunned expression. “Me? What are you doing here?”
Before Mason could answer, he noticed a male figure approaching Erica from behind.
When the man reached the stage, he touched Erica’s arm to get her attention and asked, “Erica… who is this guy?” Erica, suddenly remembering she hadn’t come alone, looked at the man then back at Mason like a deer caught in headlights.
Mason’s face turned white as though he’d seen a ghost. Forgetting the mic was still raised to his lips, he shouted, “Mr. Charger?!”
The man turned his attention to Mason. “Mr. Charger? My name is Lance. And how do you know my girl?”
“Your girl? Your girl?!?! She’s MY wife, you asshole!”
The audience, now up to speed, responded with a collective, “Ooooooh!”
The club manager killed Mason’s mic and ushered him off the stage. “I’m sorry, Mason, but you three need to take this outside.”
Mason stormed out of the club with Erica on his heels.
“Erica, what’s going on? I saw you giving this guy a blowjob at the restaurant before the show. Who is he, and what are you doing here in Florida with him?”
“You saw us?” Erica’s expression was one of shame.
“Yes. I didn’t know it was you at the time, obviously. This really hurts, Erica.”
“Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting you to be here either, Mason,” she answered, lowering her gaze.
“I’ve been doing comedy on the side for a while now. I didn’t tell you, because I was worried you would be afraid I would do something rash… like quit my job. I wanted to see if I was even going to enjoy it before bothering you with it. It seemed like you had enough on your plate having to care for your mom and dad. But obviously… you’ve had a lot more time on your hands than I thought.”
“Mason…” Erica didn’t know what to say, but she knew she didn’t want to say it here. “Is there somewhere else we can go to talk about this?”
“No. This isn’t something that’s going to get resolved tonight. Let’s talk at home. I’m supposed to leave Sunday, but I don’t know now. I may go back tomorrow and wait for you. When are you coming home?”
“I can leave whenever you want me to,” she answered.
“I’ll call you tomorrow and update you on my plans,” Mason said, then walked slowly towards the club, passing Lance at the entrance. “She may need to be consoled, Lance,” he added before disappearing into the green room.
Lance found Erica crying in the parking lot. “Take me back to my car, please. I’ll check into a different hotel for the night and leave for Alabama tomorrow.”
Mason watched the charger until it disappeared out of sight, then ordered a double whiskey. “Junior, we may have to take an Uber back tonight.”
Featured image: Lestat (Jan Mehlich), CC BY-SA 2.5, via Wikimedia Commons
