SoC 2:4

Kir Royal

 

R eturning home, even for a short visit, always feels like stepping back into my history. I had lived most of my life in and around Seattle. From Queen Anne Hill to West Seattle, I used to know every tiny coffee shop and trendy boutique. In my youth, this was my playground and I learned a lot of lessons here.

For our fifth wedding anniversary, my husband and I were home visiting my family. He decided to surprise me with a special dinner at a 5-star restaurant at the Edgewater Hotel in Seattle. As we walked into the lobby, I was amazed at how beautiful it had become.

In Seattle, the Edgewater is famous. Built in early 1960s, it occupies an old shipping pier perched over Puget Sound. In the 1964, the Beatles checked in and the hotel was overrun with teenagers. During the 1970s, the hotel was written into the history books forever. One dubious, night the band Led Zeppelin stayed in the hotel and a short time later, in a drunken frenzy, began throwing all of their suite’s furniture out the windows and into the cold salt water. Rolling Stone Magazine quickly wrote up the whole sordid event, and the hotel became known as a rockers’ hang-out. By the 1980s, the hotel had become a bit of a joke—old and dirty, reeking of human waste, surrounded by train tracks that were used all hours of the day and night and a busy fisherman’s terminal next door that filled the air with the constant greasy stench of creosote. In 2005, the hotel was featured in another magazine, Architectural Digest. It has been transformed into a grand lady with its fishing lodge décor accentuated with Ralph Lauren fabrics, mission style overstuffed furniture, an enormous river rock fireplace, and a huge plate glass window that gives you the feeling of standing on the water as sailboats float by just out of arm’s reach.

Today, the Seattle Waterfront is alive with activity. The trains have given way to cute little streetcars carrying visitors to shops along the harbor. Wealthy globetrotters bound for the Alaskan Inside Passage flock to the cruise ship terminal that replaced the dilapidated fishing pier. The boardwalks are full of tourists ready to spend money, and the Edgewater is dressed up to receive its share. Only the faint trace of creosote remains.

In the summer of 1986, having just graduated with my BA in Arts Administration, I was working at a small art gallery in the old historical district of Pioneer Square. During the summer months this was the place to be. On the 1st Thursday of each month all the galleries had their new exhibit openings. With an endless flow of free wine and street musicians playing for spare change, all the hip young people of Seattle gathered here to be seen and party.

As the newest staff member, it was my job to clean up and have the gallery ready to open in the morning before locking up for the night. About 11:30 p.m., I was washing the last of the wine glasses in the backroom when I heard a loud tapping on the front door. There stood my two best friends, Darlene and Tuyen.

That summer the three of us had become inseparable. We had been sorority sisters, all rushing the same year. They had been my closest confidantes all the way through college. We had no secrets. When Darlene’s parents announced they were divorcing, Tuyen and I watched over her. When, in our junior year, Tuyen’s boyfriend dumped her for another girl, it was Darlene and I who helped plot her revenge. And it was my father who bailed us out of jail and got all the charges dropped. I would have done anything for them. We had a “one for all and all for one” friendship, sharing every victory and every failure. That summer our futures were ahead of us. We joined together and took on the world; anything was possible.

Darlene was the beauty of our group. Tall, thin, with long blond hair, I’d often wondered why she wasn’t a model. Raised to be a Southern debutante, she had a flair for elegance and etiquette that eluded us Northern girls. I admired how she walked into the gallery with the poise and grace of a beauty queen in her pink silk strapless sundress. She had graduated that spring with her degree in Fashion Merchandising. With her style and business sense, I knew it was only a matter of time before she would be promoted to a buyer at Nordstrom’s.

Tuyen followed Darlene into the studio. She was the smart one. Having finished her Bachelor’s degree earlier in March, Tuyen was already attending graduate school studying Microbiology at the University of Washington. I could never have made it, if she hadn’t tutored me in biology my freshman year. Tuyen was the eldest daughter of a Vietnamese family and her parents pushed her hard to succeed. I think hanging out with Darlene and me was her way of rebelling against their expectations. I doubt they would have approved of her strolling the streets of Seattle in a short skirt and six-inch “fuck-me” high heels.

“This stuff is crap,” she scoffed as she looked at the new series of photographs. “What the hell is Jared thinking?”
Jared, my boss, had a fondness for art by young gay men whom he could “mentor.” This month the exhibition was the works of a recent art school graduate, Carl Landers. Having missed the entire Mapplethorpe experience, Landers tried to produce his own series of morbid nude portraits.

“We sold the original of that one,” I told Tuyen as she examined a large photograph of a woman’s bare breasts marked by a hand-shaped bruise. “Eight thousand dollars.”

“You’re kidding?”

“And two of the smaller prints.” I pointed to the pair of framed photos. The first piece was of a clothed man holding a whip, while the second complementing photo displayed a woman’s bare ass covered with red welts. “All in all, a good night.”

“Are you ready to go?” Darlene looked at the art trying to find some aesthetic value in it.

And then there was me. I’m not quite sure how I fit into our threesome. I always felt like a duck among swans, but I laughed easily and was willing to follow them just about anywhere so I was always invited. With my first real job, I felt empowered to rebel. My once long hair was cut very short except for a long thin braid that came down behind my left ear. Then as if to prove a point, I dyed the braid green. With Darlene’s employee discount, I dressed in the height of fashion: short skirts, low cut tops, and what Darlene called my “slut stocking”. Tonight, my bright red stockings under a pair of black fishnets drew glances from quite a few men. Selling art taught me one thing about fashion: the sexier you dress the longer men will talk and the longer men talk the more they’ll buy. I had mastered being a flirt and learned to use that skill well.

“Where to?” I enquired as I locked the door of the quiet gallery. The street that had been so busy a few hours ago was now empty except for an occasional homeless person who found shelter in the building’s doorways.

“You guys ever been to the Edgewater?” Tuyen asked.

“Someone told me they have cheap drinks.”

“Sounds good to me.” Cheap was always important to me since I was usually short of cash. We fell into step behind

Darlene as she headed off to hail a cab.

I climbed into the seat between Darlene and Tuyen. The sickly sweet scent of rum told me they had made a stop before picking me up. Tuyen rolled down the car window and let the fresh air surround us. I lit a clove cigarette; the spicy smoke filled the back of the cab. We sat crowded together, giggling as they told me about stopping off at the New Orleans Café for a drink. They laughed as I portrayed Jared making eyes at all the young men who came into the studio that night. As the cab dropped us off in front of the Edgewater, we were ready for fun.

We walked into the old hotel; it had seen better days. The faded red velvet fabric upholstery was worn, the carpet was stained and the smell of cigarettes and dampness permeated the lobby. Faded silk flowers stood in vases on the reception desk, where the jaded staff shifted papers trying to look busy. The only activity in the hotel came from the smoky, dark lounge.

Darlene led the way through the door. We stood at the entrance for a few seconds waiting for our eyes to adjust to the atmosphere. On the far side of the bar, a group of loud men laughed and shouted to each other as they boisterously chugged their drinks. Music blared above the large empty dance floor that filled the middle of the bar while a mirrored disco ball turned overhead sending flashes of light around us. Unable to hear anything above the noise, Darlene motioned us to follow her to an empty table.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” Tuyen yelled, but still barely audible. She lit cigarette and took a long slow drag. I looked around the room at all the activity. At the far end of the bar a middle-aged waitress holding a tray stood talking to the group of men. A fat, balding drunk pointed in our direction as she nodded annoyed. Turning on her high heels, she sauntered over to our table.

“Good evening girls,” she sighed. “The guys over there would like to buy you a drink.” We all paused and looked in their direction.

“Oh God! They’re old enough to be my father.” Tuyen never worried about being polite. I knew if we accepted their offer we would have to endure their company, and the idea of spending an evening with a group of drunken old men really didn’t interest me.

“Three Kir Royals,” Darlene replied. Before we could object, the waitress was gone.

“Dar, you know they’re going to come over here now!” I looked at my watch. It was after midnight. The bar was closing in two hours.

“Do you have any money?” She stared at me. “The drinks will cost them $10 each. Let them buy us a drink and it will be time to go.” She knew I loved Kir Royals. I knew she loved the attention of men: flirting, complimenting, being treated like a queen. It was her addiction. As the waitress placed the drinks in front of us, I watched the champagne bubbles float up through the layer of dark purple, blackcurrant liqueur and burst. I let the cool sweet elixir sparkle on my tongue before swallowing it. Okay, I can handle this, ran through my head. We had become well rehearsed at this dance.

“Here they come,” Tuyen moaned as she stuffed out her cigarette.

“Girls, does Charlie know his angels are out tonight?” A loud booming voice assaulted us. The pudgy, middle aged man stood behind me, placing his hand on my shoulder as he eyed Darlene. Rolling my eyes, I glanced over at Darlene to let her know my displeasure. His two friends laughed at the joke as they reached for chairs from nearby tables. “I hope you don’t mind if we join you.” We all put on our good-little-girl smiles, the ones we had perfected very early to convince men that we were sweet and innocent.

“Please,” Darlene graciously invited them. They quickly made their introductions. Alan, Jimmy and Big Ed were marine surveyors in town for a convention. As we sipped our drinks, they explained the differences between ships and boats, the havoc saltwater plays on wooden boats and the advantage of the newer fiberglass boats. They talked of spinnakers and Chrysler 318s while we drank and pretended to be interested. Our glasses were barely empty when Alan signaled the waitress for another round. As the hour neared 1 a.m., the bar began thinning out. Only a few drunks who didn’t have to work in the morning remained.

I glanced at Darlene and Tuyen. A few drinks ahead of me, they were beginning to have a sloppy, careless attitude about them. I watched as Alan and Big Ed moved in on the girls. Alan pulled his chair in close to Darlene’s. His hand rested casually on the arm of her chair. Occasionally, he bowed into her ear to have a private conversation. She giggled and tossed her long silky hair back and leaned towards him, giving him a chance to peak down her top. His lips longed to kiss the soft white flesh of her breasts. But being a Southern girl, she was the master of the tease and pulled away before he could touch her. On the other side of the table Bid Ed and Tuyen were moving to a similar rhythm. Big Ed had worked his hand onto Tuyen’s thigh. He listened carefully, lighting her cigarette as she told him about graduate school all the while batting her large dark eyes. After her heartbreak a few years before, Tuyen had become too serious about her studies to waste much time with boys. Her indifference in dating always intrigued men. They pursued her as if trying to obtain the unobtainable. She gently swept Big Ed’s hand from her leg, as she explained the research she had recently begun on molecular genetics. He nodded as if he actually understood, then began working his hand slowly onto her knee. I watched Tuyen and Darlene waltz their dates around the table; they were masters of leading the dance.

Jimmy sat next to me. He was the least comfortable of the group. At first I thought he was disappointed with being stuck with me instead of one of the beauties. Then I noticed the wedding ring that he absent-mindedly fingered. “Where are you from?” I asked trying to keep his interest so we could just talk.

“San Pedro,” he responded. He told me about growing up around the marinas of Southern California, before joining the Navy right out of high school. Now, he worked for a large company that inspected damaged ships for insurance companies.

As we talked, he sipped his Jack Daniels. I could see him begin to feel more relaxed as his eyes explored me. His glance traveled up my legs to the hem of my short skirt. Jimmy looked at me and smiled. His fingers played with the condensation covered glass as his gaze traced the neckline of my blouse down to my cleavage. With his Dutch courage, he slid closer to me and began fingering my fishnet stockings, working his hand over my thigh. I crossed my legs trying to hold off any further advances.

“Last call,” the waitress announced over our heads.

“One more round,” came up from the circle around the table.

“You girls want to get something to eat after this?” Big Ed asked, slipping his arm around Tuyen and almost pulling her onto his lap.

“Sounds great!” She gave him a quick smile. “Can you drive?”

“Sure, my Little China Doll.” Big Ed couldn’t believe his luck. Tuyen took a sip from the fresh drink in front of her.

“I just want to get my sweater from the car.” She reached for Darlene, who picked up on the cue. “You pay up, we’ll be right back.” We watched them promenade out of the bar, leaning on each other trying to balance themselves against the alcohol. Alan and Big Ed beamed and gloated as they congratulated each other on how well they were going to do tonight.

“I’d better look for them,” I said after checking my watch five minutes after they’d left. “They’re so drunk they probably can’t find the car.” I laughed as I gathered up my purse.

“I’ll go with you,” Jimmy offered.

“No, no, I’ll be fine,” I stammered. “We’ll be right back.” I tried to casually skip out of the bar before Jimmy could catch up with me, but he was at my side as I reached the front door. At the hotel entrance, a gust of wind blew over the sound and blanketed us with a mist of damp salt air. The chill sobered me enough to worry me. A full day on my feet had left me exhausted. My only thought was finding the girls and getting out of there.

“It’s getting cold,” I raced to scan the parking lot for the girls. “We’re parked out at the far end of the lot. We’ll be just a sec…” I rubbed my arms to fight off the goose bumps that tickled my skin.

“It’s not safe for a girl to be out here alone.” He put his arm around my waist and escorted me into the emptiness of the night. I scoured the lot for Darlene and Tuyen. As Jimmy and I walked among the cars, I felt his hand inch down my back until it rested on my ass. A shiver ran up my spine. I giggled playfully slipping my hand into his and leading him back under the parking lot lights. But he would have none of that.

“I think I see them.” He pointed to two figures in the shadows among the cars. When he found his cover, he turned on me. “You’re so pretty.” He pulled me into the shadows trapping me between two cars. Clenching me tight, he kissed me and pressed his body against me. I tasted the whisky as he forced his tongue over my lips. Fear filled me. His free hand traveled down my neck stopping only when his fingers felt my hard nipples through the thin fabric of my blouse. Trying not to panic, I searched the parking lot for signs of my friends. Where are they? My head screamed as he groped my breast.

“There they are,” I shouted pushing Jimmy off me. Finally, under the street light on Alaska Way, I spotted them standing next to a waiting cab. Tuyen’s mouth dropped as she recognized Jimmy beside me. I bound toward the sanctuary of the waiting cab. It wasn’t until we were on the sidewalk that he saw Darlene, Tuyen and the waiting cab.

“What the hell’s going on?” He grabbed my wrist and jerked me back. The force spun me around knocking me to my knees. His face turned red with anger and embarrassment as he leaned over my helpless body on the wet sidewalk.

“You’re hurting me,” I screamed while I pounded on him with my one free hand as I tried to scramble to my feet. “Let me go!” With that the large Middle Eastern cab driver got out of the car to survey the situation. Startled, Jimmy released me and I darted for the open door. Before he had a chance to react, I piled in beside Darlene. Tuyen climbed in after me, locking the door. As the car began to move away, he made one last effort to reclaim his night and grabbed at the car door.

“You fuckin’ tease…” echoed around us as we drove off leaving him standing alone under the street light. I sat rubbing my bleeding knees, trying to catch my breath safely between Darlene and Tuyen.

“Why did you let him come with you?” Tuyen sniped with a drunken slur. “We’ve gone over this a hundred times; you have to come out alone!”

“Let him?” I tried to stare at her, but my head was too foggy from the champagne and lack of sleep. Darlene laughed and stretched her long shapely legs over our laps. The cab darted through the quiet waterfront up the hill to the safety of Darlene’s tiny apartment.

In the morning, I woke to the sound of Darlene getting ready for work. Too drunk to care, we had stumbled into her apartment, pulled on t-shirts and all crawled into the queen size bed. Now, next to me, Tuyen was fast asleep. I could feel her warm body pressed against mine as we snuggled together, my cheek resting against her shoulder as her long hair brushed my forehead. She gave a soft contented moan as I drifted back to sleep. The next time I