A Good and Useful Hurt (9 page)

Deb kicked the door to the office open, popping Mike and Lamar out of their seats.

“What the hell is going on?” Mike demanded.

She sat heavily in an unoccupied chair and sighed. “Don’t you just hate them sometimes?”

“Who?” said Mike. “Customers?”

“Who else?”

“I can think of some people,” said Mike.

“I’m sure we all can,” offered Lamar.

“They’re just…uhhhhh. I hate this job sometimes.”

Becky walked into the room. “What was up with those two?”

Deb shook her head and laughed.

Lamar said, “Alright, now I really want to know. Spill it.”

“Simple work. Couple makes an appointment to get her nipples and hood pierced. Older guy on the phone who made the appointment, he seemed really cool. When they show up, Becky gets her some paperwork and—”

“She was really nervous. Like so nervous.”

“Yes, she was nervy. No big deal. He’s standing there with this shit-eating grin on his face like the cat that got the cream, and right away I’m just put off. I can just tell something’s not right. So they come back to the booth, and he’s telling her how to disrobe and telling me which one she wants to do first.”

“Why didn’t you just tell them to leave?”

“Because they weren’t doing anything wrong. You can’t just tell somebody to leave because you’re vibing off of them weird. For all I know she’s just scared out of her gourd. So she strips down and lies on the bed. I clean her up for the piercing and mark it. He checks where it’s going; she doesn’t. So I pierced her, and she screamed a little bit. Again, not a big deal, or weird for that particular piece of anatomy. I told her when I’d fastened the bar that we could be done right then if she wanted. She doesn’t say shit, just looks at him with this wounded animal look, and he says, ‘She’ll be fine.’

“We just barely got through the nipple piercings. I could tell she was really done after the first, but she soldiered through it.”

Mike interjected: “I guess I still don’t understand why you kept working on her if it was really that bad.”

“You weren’t there. A lot of different people come in for work like that from me, and some of them are just immediately put off by everything that’s happening. Some of them love it. It brings a lot of energies to the forefront, and they’re not all good ones. For all I know, she’s been talking to him about this for years and told him not to let her back out no matter what. They could’ve been heavy into bondage and it was part of her duties as a slave, a voluntary slave, to get pierced. It could be he was a creep who made his wife get pierced. There’s just no way for me to know. I hate it sometimes.”

Mike said, “I have a question about slaves and slave duties.”

Deb grinned a shark’s smile. “If there were to be a slave in our particular household, it would probably be a certain very naughty boy. Lots of high heels and scrotum kicking. Nasty stuff.”

Mike held up his hands as if warding her off. “Hey, forget I asked. Just a question.”

“Fair enough. What do I have next, Becky?”

“Nothing until four, and then you’re doing a cutting on Kip’s back. Nautical stars.”

“Alright. Cool, first that girl who sat like crap for her nose, and then the creepies. Losing control on a jewelry insertion should have been enough of a bad day; I don’t need to feel like I’m torturing someone to finish it out. I’m going to get a coffee. You guys need anything from the deli?”

Mike and Lamar shook their heads. Deb followed Becky from the room, and then they were alone to draw. They stayed mum for about five minutes, and then Lamar said, “You know, I thought she was crazy at first, but she’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah.”

“How’s it going outside of here?”

“Good, we’re getting along really well.”

“That’s good, man, real good. When you gonna let her cut up your dick?”

“We haven’t set a date yet.”

“Alright, man, let me know.”

“I’ll be sure to show you. Want to see it pre-op?”

“Mike, if you take that thing out, I’ma shove this pencil through it.”

“Y’know, that reminds me, Lamar, you still haven’t told us about your new lady.”

“I’m just taking it slow.”

“She’s dropped you off at work every day for a week. You can’t be taking it all that slow.”

“Man, it’s not even like that. We’re just taking it slow.”

“I’d like to meet her. I’m sure Deb and Becky would too.”

“You will, it’s just going to be a little while. She isn’t like all them other girls.”

“Where’d you meet her?”

“Mike. Seriously, dude. I’m happy—that’s all you worried about, right?”

“Mostly, the girls have been pressing me to grill you.”

“Just tell them I’m happy and that they’ll get to meet her soon enough.”

“Alright. Lamar?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it a dude? You can tell me if it is.” Mike pantomimed zipping his lips, locking them, and tossing aside an invisible key.

“You need to shut the fuck up.”

“Done. I’m done.”

“Seriously, that girl has got your sense of humor all out of whack.”

Mike laughed and started drawing again. “You might be onto something.”

Deb’s twenty-eighth birthday came early enough in her relationship with Mike that, though he felt obligated to buy her gifts, he did not feel compelled to spend extravagantly.
They went out to eat, and she was kind enough to go for sushi again, a food that was becoming a passion for him. When they’d finished eating, they went to Founders, the brewery that had hosted their first date. There they were met by Lamar and Becky. Mike had argued internally over whether to invite any customers, but he’d opted not to. Becky, for her part, had brought along an enormous weightlifter named Corey. Of Lamar’s sweetheart there was no sign. Greetings were exchanged quickly, and soon enough, a long-bearded waiter came to take their order.

Corey spoke from the far end of the long wooden table. “I’ll take two Bud Lights.”

The waiter smiled, as did Mike and Lamar. Deb watched quizzically.

“Sir, we serve only beer that we brew. As much as we agree that the big three do turn out consistent if not palatable product, our beers are wonderful in their own way. If you enjoy American pilsners like Bud Light, I suggest you try our—”

“I don’t think you heard me. This is a bar; I’d like two Bud Lights.”

“Dude, we sell the beers we make. That’s it. I will happily bring you tasting glasses of our Pale Ale and pilsner, if you want to stick around.” He turned to Deb, the nearest woman to him. “And what will you be having?”

Mike interrupted. “It’s her birthday, and I’m not sure what she wants, but whatever it is it ought to be from mug 1138. I’m 225, and I’ll take an Oatmeal Stout.”

Deb turned to Mike, and her cheeks were flushed. She was grinning. “You bought me a cup!”

“A mug, but yes, I did. What shall this young man fill it with?”

“I liked the stout too, the king one!”

“Imperial Stout?”

“Yeah, that one, but make me get something else after I’ve had two.”

“Excellent.” The waiter turned to Lamar. “What would you like to have?”

“You still got Backwoods Bastard on draft?”

“Yup.”

“Awesome, mug 526.”

“And for the other young lady?”

“I’ll take a Pale Ale, mug 941.”

“Great, I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

The waiter left, and Corey turned to Becky. They talked in heated whispers. Everyone else pretended to ignore them until Mike cleared his throat and made to speak, and then Becky shot out to Corey in a unsuccessfully muffled voice, “You said you’d been here before or I would have told you. Knock it off.”

Corey looked about for help. When there was none to be found, the big man lowered his eyes and waited for his drinks. He didn’t wait long. When the waiter had finished distributing the beers, Corey looked at the two small glasses in confusion, and he finally took a drink from the lighter-colored of the two.

Becky said, “Happy B-day, Deb!”

After the sentiment was echoed by the rest of the table, Deb said, “Thanks, you guys. And thanks for the mug, Mike. It’s awesome.”

“No problem.”

Mike and Deb finally escaped the bar three hours later.
The night air was brisk as they walked, but there was no snow, wind, or rain, so it was tolerable.

Deb said, “More places should do that.”

“Do what?”

“Let you buy something to be used by just you. Like if I could buy a plate to use at all of my favorite restaurants, or custom chopsticks for sushi.”

“Couldn’t you just buy a nice set of chopsticks and bring them with you?”

“You are completely missing the point.”

Mike frowned. Women had always told him he was missing the point.

“Don’t get all frowny about it. It’s not the same if I have to bring them home and wash them. I want to walk into a restaurant, say ‘plate 25,’ and have someone bring my food on it.”

“Would you have your own silverware and appetizer plates too?”

“That’d be too much stuff to store, don’t you think?”

“I guess so. I don’t think it would be that much worse than storing just one plate for every customer, though. I can’t believe I’m arguing with you about this.”

“I can. You live for irrelevant arguments.”

“No, that’s you.”

“Well, either way.”

“Right.”

“Do you think we’ll get more snow? It’s so nice right now.”

“I hope not. I’ve had my fill for the year.”

“There’s your museum.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily say it’s mine.”

“Do you think there are any other people pining away for it under the age of seventy?”

“It never occurred to me to wonder.”

“You’ll have to trust me then—there’s you and nobody else. Let’s go check if we can see in the windows.”

“OK.”

Deb placed her hand over her eyes to shield them from a dormant sun and made a brief show of looking for the police.

“Coast is clear, let’s go.”

They crossed the street together. The museum was a short, squat building, in an area that had long ago gone from fashionable to disreputable, and thus it was abandoned. But it was one of those places with a discernable energy; it glowed for Mike the same way old houses or library books can glow.

Deb cleared a layer of grime off of a window on one of the front doors and pressed her face against it. “Nothing. The windows are covered on the inside.”

She turned to make her way around the right side of the building.

Mike followed close behind her. “Deb.” She ignored him, so he said it again: “Deb.”

She was about ten feet away from a pair of ancient steel doors bound by a chain and a Master Lock. “Am I easy to see over here?”

“Not really. Wait, wait, wait. We are not breaking into the museum. No way.”

“I know, do you think I’m crazy?”

“A little, yeah. I mean, granted, it’s part of the appeal, but yeah, I have no doubt that you’re at least a little crazy.”

“I’m not that crazy.”

“You have no idea how much of a relief that is. Anyways, I think technically we’re trespassing, and whatever bravery the beer gave me is starting to wear off. We should finish the walk home, lady.”

She came back to him and let Mike wrap an arm around her waist. “I can’t believe you thought I was going to just break into your museum.”

“I guess it would’ve been a bit much, even for you.”

“Hell yes. We’d need to do a
little
planning. We’re going to need something to cut that chain; the lock’s not going anywhere. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to get some glow sticks and a couple of miner hats too.”

“No way.”

“No, we really will need all that stuff, plus a couple of empty backpacks and ski masks. I’m betting there’s some killer swag still in there. Check out the size of that air conditioner. And look, steam. They’re running heat. Did the museum take up the whole building? I suppose that doesn’t matter—it’s at least two floors and probably has a basement. You don’t think they have an alarm in there, do you?”

“I’d kind of doubt it…you cannot be fucking serious.”

“I am, and you know what the best part is?”

“That I’m not in jail for breaking into a museum yet?”

“No, the best part is that I know that no matter what you say otherwise, you can’t wait to break in there with me.”

“I think you might have misjudged me slightly.”

“Do you remember the floor plan? I think going to the city clerk’s to look at blueprints might be a bad idea; we’re pretty memorable-looking. You might be able to pull it off, though: shave the beard, dye your hair, sunglasses, maybe a cowboy hat.”

“I’m not doing any of that. C’mon, let’s get moving.”

“I hope you remember the guts of that fucker. It will go a lot faster if we know what we’re looking for.”

“I honestly can’t believe we’re talking about this. For all we know there’s nothing worth even taking in there.”

She turned to him and grabbed both of his hands. They were in the middle of crossing the street, and a car honked and curled around them.

“Mike, sometimes you just have to accept the inevitable. Either way we would have turned out well—and I think we’re turning out wonderfully—but I knew from the second you told me about that museum that I was going to be breaking into it. The only reason I’ve been waiting this long is because I wanted you to come explore with me. Think of all the rad shit in there that’s just sitting around gathering dust. If they’re running heat, it’s not empty.

“First things first, we’re going to have you draw the floor plan as best you’re able. Next we’re going to go to the new museum that you hate, so we can find out exactly how much, if any, of the real good stuff got moved. What if there’s a ton of cool stuff just getting ruined? We’d be doing everybody a favor by allowing it to be appreciated. Then a supply run and we’ll be able to go—shouldn’t take more than a week.”

“So you’re Robin Hood. This is absolutely insane.”

“Want to go home and fuck?”

“Now you’re making sense.”

“I thought you’d think so. When we’re done, let’s get to work on that map.”

“Fine. I have the right to cancel this horrible idea whenever I want, though.”

“Of course you do. Just remember it’ll be a lot more dangerous for me if I go alone.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Well, duh. C’mon, let’s get home!”