Opening Day Part 4

Carefully wiping his paws on his apron, Dweezil scanned the bar to see what was the matter.  It didn't take too long to figure out that the cat that Diane was glaring at had something to do with the huddle in the corner.   All of his wait staff were congregated there comforting a distraught Lyla, who looked like she had just lost her best friend.

"Diane." he asked archly, "what's going on?"

"This asshole," she sneered pointing at Jack.  "Insulted Lyla and made her cry. But that wasn't the end of it," she shook her head for emphasis. "Oh no, not being content with breaking her heart, he came over here, demanded our best IPA and then refused to pay for it."

Dweezil sighed.  Every instinct he had told him to go over to that oddly familiar looking cat, turn him upside down, shake the seven dollars out of his pockets, and then kick him to the curb.   But he had a bar to run and this was probably what the cops would call a domestic disturbance, so he decided to take the conciliatory tact.

Crossing the bar, he placed a paw on Jack's jacket and said, "Now, I'm sure we can work this out.  I guess being not familiar with the cost of a prime IPA, the price came to you as a shock.  So this being my opening day, I'm only going to  charge you the cost of an average beer.  Diane don't you think $2.50 should do it." He smiled over at her and continued as he attempted to guide Jack over to the huddle in the 
corner.

"Now that we're all on the same page, why don't you go on over and apologize to the lady cat.  I'm assuming that the two of you had some sort of little squabble and it never hurts to be the first to say I'm sorry."

"No, " Jack said smiling nastily,

"No, " Dweezil said staring him down, "And may I ask why not?"

"Being that your new here,"  Jack said holding his ground. "You are obviously unaware of the power of my name and my standing in the community.  So for the sake of your instruction, here's the deal.  I do not pay for beers and I do not date whores."

"I don't care if your name is Barack Ocatama and your standing in the White House," Dweezil explained in a benign tone of voice.  But it was the benign tone of voice that generally had those that knew him well, heading for cover.  When you come to my place, I expect you to follow two simple rules.  And they are.."

TO BE CONTINUED

Opening Day Part 3

The same coloring that made Harlan look pasty, whey faced and totally ineffective; made his cousin Jack appear elegant, intellectual and terribly refined.  Unfortunately, in reality he was none of the above. In reality, he was pompous, boorish and down right mean.  He used the Katz name to bully and intimidate anyone who got in his way.  And on any given day, it took less than nothing to get in his way.  The cats of Katz City, not wanting to be on the receiving end of his mercurial moods, always gave him a wide berth and showered him with respect he in no way deserved.

The hush that fell over the crowd deepened, as various cats wrapped up their meals and tried to figure out how to sneak out without drawing his attention.  

There was one cat in the bar, however, who was thrilled.   Lyla Jane straightened her blouse, brushed off her jeans and walked straight over to him.  "Jack," she cried out happily, her face reflecting love, hope and not a little fear.

"Well here's my little Pearl," he purred.  "Let's get a bottle from Diamante and head on upstairs for a private party.  I'm a little thirsty and a whole lot hungry for that special kind of loving you are so famous for."

"Oh no Jacky," she whispered wringing her paws.  "We can't be doing that here no more.  Mr. Dweezil has his rules and one of them is that there is no fornimacation on the premises."

"Come again," he asked archly, twitching his whiskers and lifting an eyebrow.

"There can be no fornimacation on the premises," she said a little louder, "And since you ain't got no premises and I ain't got no premises, I guess there cain't be no fornimacation between us until one of gets his own premises.  But Miss Trixie said that it would all be alright, because we can go on dates now."  She said all in one breath, her eyes lighting up with hope, as she placed a paw on his chest. "You know we can go out to eat and to the movies.  And in time, one of us is bound to save up enough money to get their own premises."

"Have you lost what little brains you have Pearl?" He replied nastily flinging off her paw.  "Listen up folks, this little dimwit actually thinks that I would  be seen in public with a Cat House girl.   And that I, " he said dramatically indicated himself, am so hard up for dates that I would sink to dating a whore."

He shoved her aside as he walked over to the bar. "Diamante,"  he ordered, "pour me your best IPA ."

Muttering under her breath, she poured it and slamming the mug on the bar, said "That will be seven dollars."

"He took the drink, drained most of it, sat the glass on the bar, and said, Diamante, have you forgotten who I am."

"My name is Diane, asshole, you owe the bar seven dollars, and if you don't pay up in the next ten seconds, I'm calling Mr. Dweezil."

"Well go ahead and call him Diamante," he sneered leaning over the bar, "why don't you just go ahead and call him."

And with that, she pressed a button under the bar and Dweezil came out from the kitchen.





  

Opening Day - Part 2

The lunch crowd had been meager, curious, and all male.  They had stood milling around staring at the walls, as if by some lucky chance the ghost of Luella Katz would come floating down the stairs offering them all a poke, a smoke and a tot of fine bourbon.  Diane, thinking on her feet had smiled and said,  "Come on up to the bar boys, seeing as it's opening day, your first beer is on the house."

So up they shuffled while Diane passed out beers and with a wink and smile, said, "Now don't you boys be shy, sit yourselves down on these very comfortable stools and let me fix you up with a menu. They had, and she looked over at them after passing out the menus, leaned on the bar and swore in a very conspiratorial tone of voice, "You boys ain't lived till you've had a taste of Mr. Dweezil's southwest cheese burgers.  The secret ingredient is hatch chilies." 

That was all it took.  The boys started eating, the barmaids, started flirting and when it was time to go, they all said they'd be back.

The after work, happy hour crowd was larger and actually contained some lady cats, who after an awkward moment or two, came up to the bar, started ordering and flirting with one or two of the guys standing around.  

At seven, even more cats arrived and the tables were filling up fast.  Two old timers had commandeered the table closest to the window  and set up their checkerboard.  When Trixie turned all of the TV's to the Colorado Rockies game, the place came alive with groans and cheers and shouted out bits of  unsolicited  advice for the umpires.

Things were going better than Dweezil had hoped, when at 8:45, the door opened, the room fell silent, and Jack Katz walked in.  

Opening Day - Part 1

Dweezil walked into the bar and crossed his paws as he surveyed the scene in front of him.  Every thing was just perfect.  The mahogany  bar was polished to a high gloss.  The brass trim was shining as were the taps for the large selection of draft beer he had on hand.  The ludicrous portrait of Luella Katz was gone and in its place was a  large red and blue neon sign that spelled Dweezil's.  Two 60 flat screen TVs were broadcasting the all news and all sports channels and all the leather trimmed high backed mahogany bar stools needed were customers to sit on them.

Ten round table were placed throughout the room and each one sported a crisply ironed white tablecloth and a vase filled with local wildflowers.  The walls had been painted a deep current red and antique western art was hung at just the right level.

Trixie had outdone herself hiring absolutely perfect  kitchen staff and waitresses for the bar.  Diane Tailer had surprised him by not being the dumber than dirt tartalett he had imagined.  She was bright, highly competent and quickly turned the bar maids into a team.  She was also extremely attractive which was a definite plus in his book.  Dressed in her jeans, cowboy boots and white shirt, tastefully accessorized with silver and turquoise jewelry; she made a wonderful first impression to anyone entering the bar.

The bar maids, Daisy, Janet and Rose were the usual blend of ages, dispositions and talent that staffed most bars.  But they had one thing in common, the were highly motivated and wanted the place to succeed.  The only small thorn, was Lyla Jane Simpkins who was also not what he was expected. Instead of being hard and well used, she was very young, very sweet and not terribly bright.  But she was an extremely hard worker; and made up for her deficiencies in the smarts department with her sweet disposition and her eagerness to please.  In the two weeks the girls and the kitchen staff were in training, she very quickly became the pet of everyone who worked for him. 

So smiling, he crossed the room and opened the door.

In Which Introductions and Decisions Are Made - Part 9

"Now Mam, " Harlan wheedled, "this is a small town and word has a way of getting out."

"Don't you dare mam me," Yvette hissed, poking him in the stomach for emphasis.

"Well then Miss," Harlan began and faltered at the stink eye aimed directly at  him.  "Er Ms." he stammered. And noticing that wasn't going over either, for once was at a total loss for words. Sweating profusely, he stammered, "Well then what in blazes am I supposed to call you?  I cain't hardly call you Mr or Sir, seeing as your a lady cat, or at least I think you are."

"You will not address me at all,"  Yvette hissed.  You will keep your large mouth shut for once and listen. 

Bending down until her face was directly in front of his, "She whispered, "Do not think that I don't know who it was who felt compelled to stand up at a town hall meeting and allege that I was part of some sex trade ring.  I believe the phrase was, that as the high school guidance councilor; I would make it my job to guide the innocent kittens from the school to the bordello."  The last phrase was enunciated clearly and punctuated by several jabs to the stomach with her claws.

Harlan paled, and for a puce colored cat that was not easy to do. If he was sweating before, it was nothing compared to the river pouring down his face.

"I wanted to get my lawyer to sue you for slander.  But Sheriff Igmeuwkowski convinced me not to.  But if in some lame brain attempt to make yourself look less ant like, rumors would filter out about Ms. Tailer and Ms. Simpkins, who are trying to change their lives, I wouldn't hesitate to prosecute you to the full extent of the law.   Do I make myself clear." She demanded, poking him three or four more times just in case he had any lingering doubts about the gravity of the situation.

"Now Miss Yvette, I promise to do everything in my power to keep nasty rumors from circulating.  You can count on me," He finished with a great deal of hand wringing and sincere emotion.

"Good," she smiled sweetly. "I'm glad we understand each other.  Now I expect you to be a regular at Dweezil's and a great help to us all."

"Yes, Miss Yvette, I will Miss Yvette, like I said, Miss Yvette, you can count on me.  I will do everything I can to help you all settle in and your restaurant be the talk of the town.  In a good way, he stuttered.  I mean in a really good way."

"Well I am glad," she said helping him to his feet.  "Now tell me, is it true that you can climb up the side of a building like a bat?"

In Which Introductions and Decisions Are Made - Part 8

"Absolutely not," Dweezil thundered, smacking his paw against the metal fence for emphasis.  "I flatly refuse to allow that, that," he paused momentarily and noticed Squig frantically trying to get his attention .  He was shaking his head, pointing at Annie with one paw, while zipping his mouth with the other.  On some other day this little dance might have been amusing, but after spending three days on a train, he was not in the mood to be amused.  However, it was best not to use words like skank or whore in front of his daughter, who would have twenty million questions concerning their meaning; or his mother who would lecture  and hector him for days on his lack of tact. So, pasting a concerned look on his face he blandly said, "I would prefer we hire an experience bartender, and I don't think Ms. Tailer has the right credentials for the job."

"Oh but she does," Trixie answered back immediately.  "She's been working three days a week as a bartender in Durango and she recently received her associate's degree in hospitality at the local community college.  Her references were glowing.  I can show them to you when we get unpacked."

"I'll just bet they were," Harlan harrumphed.  I bet they were all men weren't they?

And what's going to happen when the town hears that you got one of them cat house girls working behind the bar?  Did you think about that?  How many decent folks are going to want to come then.  It won't matter how fancy the food is, no decent cat's going to want to bring his wife, daughters or girlfriend to your eatery." He nodded primly, just daring them to come up with a reply.

He didn't have to wait long because Yvette extended her claws, grabbed him by the ear and dragged him over to a bench.  She then shoved him down and standing over him, with a glare that could stop a bull in mid charge, whispered, "And just how, may I ask are they going to find out."

In Which Introductions and Decisions are Made - Part 7

Squig felt his blood run cold as he looked over at Yvette.  She was giving them all what could only be described as le eye du stinque.  He could almost hear hissing now.  "So I leave you two imbeciles alone with an innocent kitten for five minutes and what do you discuss?  Skanky women and fornication that's what you discuss.  Oh yes, you also let her know that it's possible to climb up the side of a building like a bat."

The diatribe would be accompanied with a great deal of claw poking and ear pulling.  This was going to make it impossible for him to convince Trixie that he was now a responsible adult and not the layabout slacker he'd been back east.

 This was just perfect and he only had himself to blame.  He was the guilty one, because feeling sorry for Harlan  he'd allowed him to come along to meet the gang.  And what did he get for this good deed, a claw poking, ear pulling diatribe, that's what he got.

Now Dweezil on the other hand was completely relaxed.  He was not the one who had mentioned skanky women and fornication.  He, too, had been shocked and appalled,  shocked and appalled.  He'd stress that a few times.  And while he might have mentioned crawling up the building like a bat, he'd done so as a joke, never thinking that Annabelle would think it was possible.  He'd apologize profusely and the whole nasty business would be over in a few awkward minutes.

As for Harlan, he was mesmerized by vision of loveliness standing in front of them.  Yvette was wearing a red silk sheath dress which complemented her striking tuxedo coloring,  and the fact that she was furious only added a hint of spice to her sultry good looks.  Add to this that she had somehow managed to corral several railway employees to carry all of the family's luggage, only added to her incredible mystique.  

"Miss Yvette, mam,"  he said taking off his hat and with a flourish, and then bending over, dramatically bowed down. "It is a pleasure and honor to make your acquaintance."

"Oh be quiet and stand up.  You are looking quite ridiculous bent over like that,"  she hissed and turning to Annie, said, "Now who is it, petite, who has skanky ways?"

"Diane Tailer, " she answered looking up at her,  Do you know who she is?"


"As a matter of fact, I do."  Yvette said firmly, daring any of the to say one word. "She is your father's new head bartender."

TO BE CONTINUED