WTC 3: Roofie

Saturday night Theo was meeting his friend Marvin at a dive bar downtown. Marvin was a loser, thought Theo, but he was a harmless loser. Marvin had a tall and athletic frame, and he was an easy talker and had sleeve tattoos, but he was nevertheless a sorry son of a gun. He was a high school dropout whose father had passed away a few years before and who now lived with a disabled mother. The emotional toll consolidated him as a pushover, though he managed to hide that by constant wise cracking.

After a bloody street fight and a run-in with a drug pusher, Theo could use some timid company. Marvin’s misery made Theo feel better about himself, but Theo was not aware that this was why he hung out with him.

The dive bar’s name was “Windows”. It was a square space, half-lit and busy. Theo found Marvin alone in a corner table. They ordered a plate of bad nachos, and Theo got a gin on a deal. The gin tasted sedative. Its pine taste reminded Theo of a sad dark Christmas, and it also made his face itch. A glance along the crowd told Theo why he has never heard of the place, despite its central location: the patrons were a sorry mix of low-class rejects. Many were ugly, and many were fat in that unique way in which modern bodies get disfigured by junk food and negligent parenting. There was a male pirate wearing mascara. There was a bearded young man with flowing hair and an excessively earnest expression, looking like he was writing a book or maybe recovering from drug addiction. “He might go mad later in life,” thought Theo.

These were the type of people no one would ever write a book about, despite the supposedly grand liberal tradition in Western literature in which grand sages visit their compassionate genius upon the miserable and the queer. Despite Dickens and Hugo, despite even Jesus, there was in real life nothing coherent to say about these people.

“A few will likely escape their misery,” mused Theo. But he knew too many endings to too many of their stories. They end in mute nothingness, a darkness, often in the form of chemical addiction, or a permanent divorce from reality, schizophrenia, fetish, or just plain-vanilla stupidity. The mind and soul fade, and the eternal cackle of the king of all losers, the brick-red Satan, echoes on the immortal horizon of their fates. That cackle is their only epitaph. But on that summer evening, these lost souls were merely gulping down cheap burritos and watered-down mojitos and talking about things like taxes.

“God, these people terrify me,” he finally said to Marvin. His friend was surprised and somewhat offended. He demanded an explanation, and Theo said what he had been thinking.

“You must’ve had a rough week, buddy!” Marvin said. “These people are all right. Yes, they are characters. Their eccentricities make them interesting. I’d rather hang out with them than the office wonks who blow half of their accounting paychecks in overpriced nightclubs.”

Theo gave a wry smirk: “We’re characters too, Marvin. And maybe we’re interesting from far away. But up close, we are not interesting. We’re just unfortunate. Miserable.”

“You really need to loosen up!” insisted Marvin. “In fact, I am glad you agreed to come out, so I can show you some good times.”

“Loosen up?” said Theo. “I need to tighten up. You need to tighten up. I’ve been loose ever since university and I’ve only sunk deeper and deeper. Yesterday, I had a nasty run in with a boss with a very loose sense of morals. I saw God forsaken junkies with a loose sense temperance, and their supplier used his loose fists and feet on them. I say no thanks to loose. Loose is for losers.”

Marvin sighed. “Come on! Dude, I need to get you drinks. And I need to get you hooked up with someone tonight. This round’s on me. Hey, you drove us! Now if you want to hear a story about a loser, let me tell you what we all figured out about Zach last week…”

He then related how evidence had surfaced that the mysterious girlfriend Zach has been talking about for months was actually a hooker, and Zach was either unaware of it or unable to come to terms. The story made Theo laugh. He used that story for another small rant on what good being loose gets you. Nevertheless, the story mellowed his anger into an outgoing kind of brashness.

The gin began to taste happier. Theo persuaded Marvin to go to the pool tables, where they found two women playing. They were probably in their late thirties, so some ten to fifteen years older than the two male friends. No matter - they joined them for a pool game.

“What brings you boys to this bar?” asked Tammy, the shorter girl, a curly blonde.

“Marvin,” said Theo.

“I like this place. It’s got cheap booze and it’s down to earth,” explained Marvin.

“A little too down to earth, if you ask me,” said Theo.

“I like it!” said Lisa, the taller brunette. “It’s raw and gritty.”

The place quickly transformed into a nightclub. The dinner tables were cleared to make space for a dance floor, which filled as the music was turned up louder. The four pool players got into the groove. Marvin and Theo got loud and mostly talked about and made fun of Zach. The ladies were amused by the story. Their opinion was was that, as long as Zach and his girlfriend are in love, we shouldn’t be judgmental about sex workers.

“You boys want to hang out with us tonight? We are going to a house party up in Pine Grove,” said Lisa.

“Fancy!” said Martin. Pine Grove was the most exclusive neighbourhood in town.

“My husband’s throwing a party for his finance buddies,” said Tammy.

“Yeah, they’ve got a huge yard and a pool,” said Lisa, “It’s going to be so much fun!” She cuddled up to Theo, “Especially for a dashing young man like you.”

Theo and Marvin talked it over between themselves, and they agreed to go. By this point the alcohol had stirred them up into a mood for adventure. Let’s mingle with the rich, they thought. They wouldn’t know anyone at the party, but Theo figured if he could survive a raging pit bull and a psychopathic drug pusher, he could battle his way through a pool party of rich queers.

Tammy drove the four of them to the house in a black Mercedes SUV. The other three already had too many drinks to drive. They pulled up in a circular driveway of a small mansion.

The backyard was an impressive sight. In its center was a bean-shaped swimming pool laid out in stone and Greek mosaics. Around it there were antique stone railings and hedges. Stretchers and sofas screened by white curtains scattered across the deck and the lawn. The air smelled like lavender.

They walked up to the outdoor open bar on the side of the pool and got the bartender to mix them a round of drinks. They observed the crowd and commented on the beautiful women that walked by. The men with them were handsome, too. Chiseled bodies everywhere. Everyone was dressed scantily, like they all had been swimming just until it got dark, and then pulled only enough clothes to cover their swimsuits. Hip hop music was blaring, and they felt as though they are living in one of those salacious hip-hop videos. A gaggle of beautiful young women walked right by the two friends, mostly ignoring them, but one or two threw a pointedly disinterested look their way.

“There must be a God, said Theo, “There’s no other way to explain what I’m seeing, or how I’m feeling right now.”

They went from the bar and took up seats at one of the sofas. Soon, they were approached by a man with a broad smile and a shiny, balding head. He was probably just over thirty. He wore a purple blazer and a silk orange cravat under his cream-colored dress shirt. He looked very much like a prick.

“This is my dear friend Abhay,” Lisa introduced him, “He’s an investment wizard.”

“I don’t believe in salaries,” Abhay explained, “If you’re getting paid a salary, you are a slave.”

Abhay then went on to explain his investment fund. Marvin ignored the business talk. He was paying attention to Tammy. Theo had the impression that Abhay may be trying to get him interested in investing with his fund. “This douchebag has no idea who he’s talking to,” Theo thought, “I don’t have a dime of savings.”

Soon they were joined by a man named Neil. He was blushed with tan, which may have been fake, and wore white pants and expensive moccasins with a monogram on them. His mostly unbuttoned white shirt showed a tuft of grey chest hair. The skin on his face was tight, and he was smiling all the time. He came in the company of one of the girls that earlier inspired Theo to glorify the Creator. She was a haughty blonde in her early twenties, with a body of a fashion model. She was the only girl that night to wear flowing satin pants rather than a skirt.

Abhay introduced Neil: “Taking about finance genius, you have got to meet this man. Neil is my role model.”

Neil continued the business theme by explaining that he was entrepreneur. He invests in many things, including tech start-ups and wine, and the latter investment he is doing in partnership with Abhay. “First of many fruitful partnerships,” Abhay added. Neil explained that his life philosophy is all about unleashing one’s suppressed creativity.

“You should never care what others think about you,” he pointed his finger up, “because when you start doing that you become a slave to others and your life ends up riddled with regrets.”

By this point Lisa was again rubbing up against Theo and getting in his face.

“You look a little tense,” she said, “We need to get you relaxed tonight.”

Neil left with the haughty blonde and Lisa pulled out a flat wooden box from under the coffee table. She removed the lid; the box contained cards, zigzags, dime bags of weed, white pills, and cocaine. That was at least what Theo gleaned. Lisa rolled up a joint and shared it with Theo and Tammy. Marvin and Abhay abstained. After the joint she offered her companions the pills – Oxycontin or molly. Or maybe some coke? This time everyone refused.

“You guys are so boring,” she complained, “Theo, you want another drink?”

Theo said he wanted a gin and tonic and Lisa walked over to the bar to get it.

That last gin and tonic really did Theo in. It was maybe his fifth drink, which wasn’t very much alcohol, but he never felt drunker before. He lost all inhibition. Lisa and he began to dance. Tammy joined them. He then remembered arguing with Marvin, who snapped in anger and dashed off home. Last thing Theo remembered was that he went upstairs to a room with Lisa and Tammy.

He woke up naked in bed with the two women the next morning. He did not remember how it ended that way. Lisa was snoring in bed, and he could see her face in the bright morning sunshine. He even saw a thick bush of black hairs, sticking out of her nose.

“I banged a couple of grannies,” thought Theo. He was dressing up and looking to sneak out. He was stung with shame, and he felt pity for himself as well as the two women, who looked so ordinary in plain daylight.

He couldn’t find his pants in the room. Finally, he discovered a bathroom and found his pants swimming in a filled jacuzzi. He put his hand to his forehead and sat down on the toilet seat. His despondency was interrupted by Lisa’s voice. She was standing at the entrance to the bathroom.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get the maid to throw it in the washer and drier, it will be done in a couple of hours.”

Lisa threw a dark blue silk robe to Theo. She walked to the washbasin and began washing up, wearing a pink silk robe herself.

“Go hang out downstairs,” she said, “I’m sure there’s some coffee and breakfast.”

Down by the poolside, Theo saw Neil, Neil’s blonde companion from last night, and Abhay, getting served a breakfast at a round outdoor table by a couple of waiters, probably employed by some sort of food catering business. A beautiful golden retriever shuffled from laying on the grass to the seated humans, who caressed and cooed at him in turn.

“Come join us,” said Neil, “Mi casa su casa.”

“Wait, so this is your house?” asked Theo as he sat at the table, “I thought this was Tammy’s house.”

Neil looked up from his salmon and goat cheese benedict and smiled. “Well, it is also Tammy’s house. Tammy’s my wife.”

Theo reeled from the thought that he had slept with the host’s wife, or at any rate woke up naked in the same bed as her, and he couldn’t help but look at the blonde next to Neil.

“Hehe, Maya is just a friend! She’s my protégé,” said Neil. “Where’s Tammy, anyway?”

“Didn’t see her.”

The breakfast was delicious. Theo opted for a Greek omelette and carrot juice, with coffee of course – black. The group talked about a recent corporate scandal in Silicon Valley. There was a lot of business jargon, but Theo could keep up. He had taken a few business and finance courses in college. He had also read somewhere that, if you want to make people think that you are a great conversationalist, all you have to do is let them do all the talking and say only things to keep them going at it. Adhering strictly to this precept, pitching in sporadically with a few unpretentious but educated comments, Theo ended up on the good side of both Neil and Abhay.

It only got awkward for him when they would explain what they would have done in the situation of the scandalized tech leaders – Theo had no entrepreneurial experience and figured that issuing his own first-person hypotheticals on the subject would be too pretentious. At that stage of the conversation, he became quitter, frequently resorting to sipping his carrot juice through a paper straw, and consequently making it soggy and defunct. He exchanged a few furtive glances with Maya, through which they emphasized with each other’s embarrassment about having nothing to say.

The conversation then turned to a legal marijuana entrepreneur up in Vancouver who recently became a billionaire. Theo was attention was piqued by the subject of drugs, and he was surprised to learn just how libertarian Neil and Abhay were on the subject.

“The war on drugs was a horrible mistake form the beginning,” said Neil, “We should have followed the Dutch example and saved countless lives and countless families from all the mental illness, all the jail sentences, and all the bloodshed. I don’t understand how a modern-day society could impose these primitive, superstitious restrictions on substances that grow naturally, that can benefit you if you use them responsibly, and that everyone uses anyways!”

“Fact!” said Abhay, “I don’t personally do any drugs, but there are spiritual traditions dating back thousands of years that utilize marijuana and other psychedelics to reach higher planes of consciousness. I’m considering getting on a testosterone regime though. Now there’s another business opportunity…”

Maya and Theo continued slurping on their soggy paper straws. The golden retriever came up to Theo and sniffed at him, and Theo petted him awkwardly.

Forty-five minutes later Lisa and Tammy came down and joined the table. They skipped breakfast and poured themselves some coffee.

Lisa crouched down to the golden retriever and the animal licked her face. “Did you miss mommy?” she said in response.

By that time, it was already past noon. Neil opened a bottle of champagne and handed out Cuban cigars to the three men. They smoked a while. Abhay talked about his favourite self-help book. Halfway through the cigar, Neil excused himself. He had some business to attend to. He encouraged the rest of the crew to enjoy themselves.

Later on, Theo moved with Lisa to a lawn sofa for privacy. Lisa produced her wooden box again. She shuffled through it looking for something.

“I’m out of coke again. I’m out of … everything.”

Theo looked around for a moment and thought. He then said: “I can get you any of that stuff. Best quality too. Just tell me exactly what you need.”

Lisa specified several recreational drugs and quantities for each. Great, thought Theo, he’s going to make a couple of hundred dollars on this.

He asked: “What’s your budget?”

“I don’t know, I’ve got parties coming all summer. Maybe five, ten grand?”

“Easy. I’ll get it to you next week.”

“Great, deal!”

Later in the afternoon Tammy and Lisa dropped Theo off to the bar where they picked him up. This time they drove Tammy’s convertible Audi. He hugged the women goodbye in front of the joint and then walked around to the back to his own car. Inside, he opened his phone and dialed Marco, the sociopath drug pusher.

“I’ve thought about the advice you gave me,” said Theo. “Let’s do some business.”