Her right heel came loose when she hit the top step of The Claddagh. It was only three steps into the corner door- these old neighborhood bars were never ADA compliant-but Arlene was thrilled she didn’t fall backward.
She fiddled with her shoe, then just decided to take ‘em off, she knew everyone, who cares?
Placing the red leather heels in the faux leather purse, she realized she had owned the shoes since Reno.
Armando died in ‘82…
It felt like a lifetime ago.
Armando had been a damn good illusionist, and Arlene was a damn good ventriloquist, but the Silver Nugget didn’t want her as a solo act.
Before Arlene sat down Mickey had her gin with three limes next to the little For Amusement Only Poker machine.
It was Arlene’s little taste of Reno in Detroit.
Arlene had survived the steep drop from headlining a Reno casino to taking fed money to give Say No to Drug shows in the public school system.
She sipped her gin and fed thirty bucks into the flashing poker machine.
For Amusement Only.
Beyond the machine, taped to the bar mirror, was a promo shot of Arlene and her characters;
Precious, the Peacock, who was what kids would be if they stayed off drugs, and Terror the Pterodactyl, craggy and scary, what kids would be if they tried drugs. She rotated other characters into the act, made them all herself, depending on the popular drug at the time.
Arlene was the only celebrity at the Claddagh, besides Julio, the cop who had talked the Cass Tech kid off the roof of the GM building.
Her first few poker hands were duds.
She usually slapped the bar.
Tonight she did not.
Mickey looked over, the sounds of winning and losing hands woodburned into her eardrums.
“You’re awfully mellow tonight Arlene,” Mickey said, leaning into the bar mirror and reapplying lip gloss.
“I retired today. No more “Say No to Drug” lectures to kids with faces pushed into phones. The feds cut my pay three straight years. They can kiss my ass.”
“Big relief to be retired, huh ?”
Arlene hit the rectangular buttons on the poker machine again. Another dud. Squirted a lime into her gin and the last squeeze into her mouth. She dropped the spent lime on The Claddagh napkin, with its image of a harp. Arlene and Mickey could never figure out why Tommy McHugh didn’t put a damn Claddagh on the napkins.
“I guess,” Arlene said. “Some of the neighborhoods were kinda sketchy, there was always a little gap when I didn’t know if my contract would be renewed. Some of the kids were sweet though, some of the teachers.”
“Well,” Mickey said, “you do seem more relaxed than usual.”
Arlene smiled, pressed some buttons. The machine bleeped and blooped. Two Pair.
“My friends at the Vent Haven Museum put my Meanie Jane Marijuana character up for auction. Two pot shops in Aspen engaged in a bidding war for it. Made more off that damn green and purple puppet than I would in six months of school assemblies. I’ll take another gin.”
***
Photo by Pablo Hermoso on Unsplash