TOUGH CUSTOMERS

            It was quarter to two as I made my way down the Hillfield stretch of Bourbon Drive. I only had fifteen minutes to get to the old Jaundice house on Elder. Sure, I coulda been there at noon. Coulda been there earlier. But I don’t cha-cha. Never had the shoes for it, I guess. Me? I gotta draw ‘em out, make ‘em feel the squeeze. Then they’re primed to pop as I feed ‘em that spoonful of ugly.

            I was slicin’ the cheese thin, for sure. But as I turned onto Acacia, I had to take a moment, had to dig that crazy jazz blowin’ down the street. Thick-top johnnies and their dopey broads arm-in-arm, rugrats in tow, sportin’ their pearly whites and gigglin’ like a hopped-up clown car. They can’t even tell the nancy at the soda fountain from the huckster jonesin’ for a pound of flesh.

            But I can spot the swine among the pearls. I turned onto Elder and watched the houses zip by, spotted the blood in the mortar between the bricks, heard the birds sing Greek chorus. I know what’s brewin’ under those roofs. Trouble’s what it is, double bubble and all. You don’t have to go lookin’ for it neither. It’ll find you and but quick. I found it that day. I had it sussed out from the jump. I pulled into the Jaundice drive and got out of the van. I didn’t know the particulars knockin’ on that front door, but I could spot a hotbed of grift from five towns over.

            The door swung open and there she was. “Eva Jaundice?” I asked.

            “Yes.”

            I took a last drag, dropped the butt and snuffed it out with my heel. “Hunts Bomark.” I crossed the threshold and shut the door behind me. “You say you’re having some trouble?”

            She eyed me sidewise for a second before the synapses sparked to life. “Oh yeah! C’mon. I’ll show you.”

            She waddled out of the foyer and I followed. She was all muumuus and diabetes. She looked familiar to me. I think I saw her in a movie once. She was engulfed in flames and someone was screaming, oh God the humanity. “She was no looker, that was for sure. You wouldn’t bat an eye if you saw her on safari, coolin’ in a mudhole.”

            Jaundice stopped and looked back at me. “Excuse me?”

             “Never mind, Crumb Cake,” I said.

            “ ‘Crumb cake?’ ”

            “That’s right. Say, you want to show me the problem, or you want to make a friend?”

            Her bovine eyes went sidewise again before she walked on. Guess she had some cud in the wreck room. I followed her in there. We stopped by the davenport, a ratty number soaked through with sundaes and dashed dreams. She pointed at the TV set and said, “The picture’s fuzzy and the cable channels don’t come in at all.”

            I eyed the tube, all thirty-three inches of it. I could beat that. “Fuzzy, huh?” I said.

            She took a beat and said, “Yeah. Fuzzy.”

            I walked over to the set. I was ready for anything. Loose wires, a smokin’ husk, a Chinaman with a slingshot. Anything. The fat old bat wasn’t droppin’ guano on my head. I knelt down at the back and scoped it out. Nada. I peeped the back of the cable box. Again, bupkis. “How long’s this been goin’ on?” I asked.

            “About a week now.”

            I looked up at Jaundice, gave her a glance sidewise – see how she likes it.

            Her mug waxed befuddled. “Maybe ten days,” she added.

            “And you’re just comin’ forward now.” I stood up, crossed my arms. “I’d seen this a hundred times. Maybe a thousand. After a while you go numb. One case starts to fade into another and pretty soon all you got is a big pile of nasty cruddin’ up your head.”

            “What do you mean?” Jaundice piped in.

            “Wasn’t talkin’ to you, Soft Serve,” I piped back. I dropped my arms and faced the broad head on. “Want to know what I think?”

            “Yes.”

            I started toward her, slowly, windin’ her spring real tight. “I think you saw an opportunity and you took it. You thought, Hey, maybe it’s a bad wire or there’s a glitch with the server. Could be any number of things. What do I know? But why don’t I let this sit on the sly for a while? Make it look worse for the wear. Maybe I’ll get a sucker for a serviceman and this bird can wet her beak a little.”

            “What are you talking about?” she cut in.

            I kept the boot on her neck, “Then after a week – maybe ten days – you call up the company. And they send me around. You feed me this song and dance, and I say, ‘So sorry for the inconvenience, m’lady. Allow me to spot you free cable for a month.’ So you say, ‘Thank you, kind sir. Let me repay you. But I don’t have much in the way of money.’ And then what, Cream Cheese? I introduce you to the beast with two backs, start combin’ your hair? Then you’re paintin’ my fingernails and feedin’ me lines. You get an idea, real spontaneous-like. How we can always be together and never worry about anything again. And I go along for the ride because I’m the sap who fell for your tune. Next thing I know, I’m nappin’ on a railroad track and you’re in Cabo with the president of the company.”

            “Are you crazy?”

            “Like a fox! Who do you think you’re dealin’ with here, Mayonnaise? I had you made the moment you opened the door. ”

            She was yappin’ at my heels as I b-lined for the exit. “Hey! Who the hell do you think you –”

            I spun around and put my finger in her face. “Now see here, Waffles! You’re not pullin’ the wool over my eyes. These eyes are trained and they got your number. I’ve seen your type before. You run roughshod over the straight and narrow, wave your stink under all the clean noses, ‘til they end up bangin’ their heads against the walls of the booby hatch. But I’ll tell ya what I’m gonna do: I’m gonna let this one slide. I’m gonna give you all the rope you need to hang yourself. Then I’ll slip in and kick the stool out from under your feet.”

            I opened the door, crossed back over the threshold, and lit a butt. I took a drag, blew out the smoke and looked back at the crooked broad with the dopey look. “Arrividerci, Stir Fry.”

            I got in the van and amscrayed. I didn’t have time to savor a minor victory. I had to get over to Lakebush, see about some shark’s hinky modem, a lawyer named Clams Casino. He’d be a tough customer.

            The brass at the office was gonna ride me over the Jaundice broad. They were tough customers too. In the end, they’re all tough customers. But when you live by a code, that’s who you gotta sell to.