Booze, Broads, and Other Misadventures (SR,TB,PC)

[trae]

The movies were a good distance away from the Curtis house. It probably took about thirty minutes to walk across town, and it was getting dark. Darry had came in to where Steve and Two-Bit were sitting on the living room and asked if someone would go pick up Pony from the movies. Instantly, Steve groaned. He was planning on heading out to find some action that night. Picking up that little tag along would put a big dent in his plans.

"Come on," Darry had said with that little whine in his voice he used on those rare occasions to get someone to help him out. "It's five minutes in your car."

"But that's ten minutes out of my way," Steve pressed, thoroughly annoyed by that time.

But in the end, Darry won and Steve was on his way to his car with Two-Bit tagging along. At least it wouldn't be boring.

[merrill]

Personally, Two-Bit had a feeling Ponyboy would be getting in on some pretty good action. It was a brilliant plan, in Two-Bit's mind, that made the movies such an ideal place to hang around. The pictures were fun, yeah (and blondes were bonuses), but the real catch of it all is the girls. 

Asking a girl out to the movies is a win-win situation. She gets to enjoy some mushy shit that chicks like to watch while he gets to enjoy her reactions. Say, if a particularly sad scene was on and the chick was crying, burying herself into the guy's chest was an occurrence that happened often. If it was a scary scene, it would be similar, except you get to be the 'big, strong defender'. 

Two-Bit always knew the kid was crafty. Well, that is if he went to the movies for that purpose. Of course, he did. Who would go there that often? It's not like watching Rhett Butler say, "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn," was all that worthwhile. Two-Bit figured that chicks were the only interesting things you can find in a movie theater. 

However, Steve wasn't in on this perspective and probably only thought that the kid went for watching those dumb films. Two-Bit knew he didn't like Pony all too much and thought that he was a little irrational about the whole affair. He made no comment on that subject, though. 

He took a leap into the shotgun seat of Steve's car, and immediately began to drum his fingers against the dashboard. Picking Pony up would be humdrum, but hunting up some action was peachy keen for Two-Bit. Finding some random broad to flirt and 'talk' to was enough to keep his mind off some things. Add some brew to that mixture, and his night would be complete. 

"Lighten up, Steve, the night's still young and I'm sure there'll be enough broads by the time we get there," he said cheerfully, hoping to keep the mood light. "'Sides the later, the better. That's when the real foxy chicks come out."

[trae]

"Lighten up, Steve, the night's still young and I'm sure there'll be enough broads by the time we get there. 'Sides the later, the better. That's when the real foxy chicks come out."

Way to go, Two-Bit, for lightening the mood. It took Steve a good amount of self control to not snort. Foxy chicks, all right. Foxy in all their short skirt, paint-rolled makeup, tight shirt glory. But it made Steve grin to himself at his friend's remark. The thought of all the "foxy" chicks lightened the situation a little. And the idiot had a point. Night life was a hell of a lot more exciting then afternoon.

"True that," Steve commented, pulling out on to the road. "But it's just the fact I have to pick up the kid. Not that I'm missing something. For all that concerns me, he can walk his happy ass home."

Well, maybe that was a little harsh. Steve knew good and well the dangers that lied with walking home. He had been on the receiving end of some of those dangers before he got a hold of his own car. Greasers were notorious for being jumped by the "nice guys" all the time. They didn't want another incident happening again. But that didn't mean Steve was going to admit that he worried for the kid. Because he didn't. Not at all.

Okay, maybe he did.

Steve blared the horn at someone who cut him off, hollering and laying the horn again. "Crazy drivers," he breathed.

[merrill]

"True that. But it's just the fact I have to pick up the kid. Not that I'm missing something. For all that concerns me, he can walk his happy ass home."

Two-Bit grinned and felt an urge to roll his eyes. Steve and Pony weren't exactly what you would call 'close', but Steve could at least try putting in a good word for the kid. After all, Pony didn't do much at all but read, write and be smart. The kid was hardly much company; well, except when Two-Bit would amuse himself by embarrassing the kid with crude jokes and stories.

"Exactly, Stevie," he said, reaching over to turn on the radio to some rock music station. "We ain't doin' much right now and there's the Socs. They ain't exactly known to be keen on greasers goin' home alone. Meaning, some big-ass guy might come along and provide some unpleasant company." 

It was pretty true. Ever since the dawn of time, the bigger (or richer, in this case) man strutted around like a peacock in a palace. Whenever some lower form of life (in the Soc's opinion), they would rage an unyielding war on them. Two-Bit didn't mind being a greaser so much and he didn't mind the fights at all, but when they picked on defenseless kids like Pony or Johnny, that pisses him off. 

However, in a way, Two-Bit was always more than happy to find an excuse to jump some Socs. Armed with his black-handled switch with its ten inch blade, he was usually prepared for any brawl to come his way. Breaks that he welcomed with open arms and raised fists.  

"Crazy drivers." Two-Bit heard Steve say under his breath.

Two-Bit snorted and raised an eyebrow. "Crazy? Haven't you seen Soda or Dally drive?" he asked, sticking his fist out of the window to flip the driver off. 

[trae]

OOC: Terribly sorry for the long wait, my friend. A lot of stuff came up.

BIC:

Two-Bit mentioned the driving skills of Soda and Dally, which led Steve to laugh at the mere thought of it. Sure, those two knew how to drive. That didn't mean then knew how to drive well. That was a whole different story.

"I do!" Steve answered with this stupid grin on his face. "But I know how they drive and I'm not really afraid o' them. It's these unpredictable morons that I have a problem with."

Again, he laid on the horn. Traffic in these parts of the city was real bad. It was becoming strikingly impossible to maneuver through the streets, what with all this traffic blocking the way. Steve liked open roads and speed. Yeah, that was the way to drive. But here, he had to always watch out for the next drunken taxi driver or the next little old lady behind the wheel.

Or maybe he was thinking about the main roads.

Besides, Steve was growing impatient. He leaned his elbow on the door, steadying the wheel with his right hand leaning his cheek in his left one.

"If we don't get there soon, I'm turning around."

Nice threat, if he did say so himself.

[eastsidesunset]

I stood leaning against a graffiti-covered cement wall a few buildings left of the movie house, watching the cars inch by in the traffic. It was getting dark, and you could tell by the increasingly impatient honking (as if that'd do any good) that everyone really wanted to get where they were going. Just in the five or ten minutes I'd been out here, there had already been at least three people yelling out the windows of their car for people to "get a move on". If you asked me, it was stupid. Nobody wanted to be stuck in traffic. Swearing yourself blue wasn't gonna help.

I would've just went ahead and walked home- it wasn't that far away- but Darry'd said to wait for Steve to pick me up if it was getting dark. And the shadows were coming in fast. Absentmindedly, I took out a cigarette and lit it, taking a drag. I'd take my chances with the cops.

A few more minutes later, I was starting to wonder if Steve had forgotten to come or just didn't feel like it. Even if the traffic was pretty bad, he was late. I knew Steve didn't like me. Maybe this was his way of getting back at me for "tagging along" with him, Soda, and Two-Bit sometimes. I sighed, stamped out my cigarette, and started walking towards the direction of home before it really went dark. The traffic was slowly thinning and the absence of the car horn symphony was a real relief.

I had planned on looking for Steve's car as I walked, just in case. But as soon as the honking stopped I forgot to watch the cars and started thinking about the movie. Gone With the Wind. I'd read the book a few weeks ago and liked it a lot. The movie version wasn't as good, but I liked it, the actors and music and all. The sunset backgrounds were real nice, too. If only the light pollution of New York didn't dim the sunsets around here. Maybe it was like that in the country. Maybe...

[merrill]

[ooc=Into the deep, dark tunnels of Merrill's mind, a post was created. It surfaced to the world of RC weeks after its predicted arrival, and has finally been released.]

"I do! But I know how they drive and I'm not really afraid o' them. It's these unpredictable morons that I have a problem with."

Two-Bit also knew-- all too well --how they drive and it was enough knowledge to put someone off from approaching a car. Though he wasn't the one to talk; after all, his car was unpredictable enough to enhance his competition with Dal and Soda for Worst Driver of The Year. When the brakes on the old Plymouth gave out, it threw him off and he normally scared the living shit out of his passengers. 

He seriously needed a new car that wasn't over fifty years old. It was a miracle Steve still manages to keep the mechanical deathtrap still running. "You can't expect anythin' more out of a place like New York," replied Two-Bit, lazily shrugging. "We might as well walk there. It ain't very worth the trouble."

Two-Bit observed as Steve grew more frustrated with the driving population, and his irritation increased. "If we don't get there soon, I'm turning around," he grumbled. 

"Yeah," Two-Bit said, a little sarcastically, "I know you're just wantin' to get your ass whipped by Darry for leavin' Pony to walk home by himself." Everyone knew what mood Darry would be in if they disobeyed the orders he seldom gave. 

[trae]

OOC: Guess who went away for a few months and forgot to tell someone. That's right. Thiiis guy.

BIC:

"Yeah, I know you're just wantin' to get your ass whipped by Darry for leavin' Pony to walk home by himself."

Steve snorted. He was about to say something else, but he noticed someone familiar walking down the street. Upon closer inspection, he noticed it was Ponyboy. Well, they must have been a few blocks away from the movie house after all.

"He's lucky," he said, grinning. "I was about to turn this car around and leave him."

Okay, maybe he wasn't, but throwing a tiny hissy-fit over it made him feel a little bit better.

He honked the horn once, waving his arm out the window at Ponyboy and hoping to get his attention. He didn't feel like turning around and coming all the way back.

[eastsidesunset]

Another honk in the middle of nowhere startled me out of a daydream, and I looked behind me to see Steve's old car about half a block down. He was waving at me to get over there, and with a small sigh I went. As I got closer I realized Two-Bit was there with him, which lightened my mood a little. I mean, nothing against him, but a cranky Steve is just not exactly the best company. I knew he didn't really want to pick me up, and I didn't need him to, not really. Darry didn't think so, I guess. And there were always the Socs.

"Hey, guys," I greeted tiredly, climbing in the backseat of the car. "Thanks for the ride." I leaned back and stared out the window. I hadn't realized how dark it was really getting. Lights in restaurants flickered on, bright and glowing even through two layers of glass. The same places that looked tired, old, and run-down during daylight somehow looked almost warm when it was half-dark. Maybe this was why this was always my favourite time of day.

"Where're we goin'?" I wondered aloud. I mean, Steve was still driving in the direction of the movie house I was just at a minute ago. kinda assumed they were planning on going somewhere. And knowing Two-Bit, I doubted it was the library.

[merrill]

"Hey, guys. Thanks for the ride."

"No problem, kid," Two-Bit replied, despite the fact that he wasn't the ride himself, "but you really oughtta get a car yourself. Or at least, a girlfriend with a car. I don't think Stevie-boy — generous and loving as he is — can't keep actin' as your personal chauffeur. It gets him pretty grouchy."

Two-Bit pushed back the seat and raised his feet onto the dashboard. He knew that Steve didn't like it when Two-Bit did that, but it was better if he was distracted with this rather than complaining to the kid. Those two weren't best friends, but that doesn't mean Steve should be on Pony's case so often. Plus, Two-Bit was way more comfortable this way. And the dirt from his shoes would be easier to clean from the dashboard than the fuzzy carpet that would absorb the muck. 

"Where're we goin'?" asked Pony. 

"Well, we were going to a strip club," Two-Bit began, as they passed by a building with a sign in curly, purple lettering. "The Lusty Lady" it said, with "Veni, Vidi, Veni" underneath, "but I don't think they'll let you in... or anywhere else, not with that face. So, I guess we'll have to hunt up some action at the mall or somethin'."

[trae]

The kid clambered in to the car, muttering something about being thankful for the ride. Steve was about to say something, but Two-Bit piped in, speaking exactly what Steve wanted to say. He grinned. The kid needed a girlfriend, with a car, fast. That, or take up the ancient art of walking. Then, the guy went and slung his feet up on the dashboard, and the grin faded as quick as it came.

"Seriously? You're putting your feet up when you know I'll just..." He trailed off, giving Two-Bit's feet a good, hearty shove, effectively getting them off of the dash. "Do that," he finished.

The grin was back, but that didn't mean he was happy that he had to drive the kid around. Two-Bit went on about a strip club, mentioning that it wouldn't be a good idea anymore. Damn.

"The mall, huh?"

It was better than nothing.