Chloe Goes Wrong (Again!)

It is Sunday at Danny's Coffee Shop.
Chloe, the multiple felon with the killer shoes, is trying to drag a large inert something in from the sidewalk,
And not having a whole lot of success.

There is a woman standing outside the door of Danny's Coffee Shop,
Wearing a head scarf, a black dress, and a crucifix.
(The crucifix is not the ironic kind favored by the young and stoned.)

"Hola, chica," says Chloe, looking up at the woman,
"Help me get this inside!"
She blows her blonde hair out of her eyes and waits, tapping a foot.

The woman looks down at the something, and turns away, slowly, regally,
Without saying a word,
But her posture says very clearly, "No way, Toots."

Chloe's mouth drops open.
"Well fuck ya and feed ya fish heads then, I'll do it myself!"
She resumes her Sisyphean labors.


Before she knows it, God the waitress has come outside and is dragging Chloe by the ear into the shop.

"Ow ow ow ow ow ow owwwwwwwwwwww!" yelps the serial murderess.

"Do you know who that is? Out there?"
Chloe looks both hard done by and cowed. "No...?"
"That is the blessed Saint Creola. Be nice. She's one of mine."
"Yes ma'am."
At 24, it is the first time Chloe, the fugitive from justice, has ever said this,
Even when she has been before judges.
But dude, it's God.

Her ear bright red, Chloe starts back toward the door, but on her way,
She smacks the Succubus's newspaper and gives Savanna the teenage runaway's chair a good kick.
"Off your butts, lazy sluts, come and help me."
They do. 
Savanna brings the knife that's inside her boot, just in case.

Together, they wrangle the something into a chair, where it sits slumped and still.
The Succubus lowers her dark glasses and gives Chloe a look that asks,
Chloe chirps, "It's Charles Bukowski!" the way a six year old might boast about finding a nickel.

"He sucks," say the Succubus, Savanna, God and Saint Creola in unison.
"And he's dead," adds Denise the waitress.
"And he stinks." So say them all, but he always did.

They prop him up in his chair and leave him.
He does not order anything, or speak, or (thank Goddess) write any poetry;
And yet, after a while, a drove of male customers of a certain age come and sit with him,
Starry eyed.

"They're like teenybop girls with Justin Bieber," remarks the Succubus,
Looking as if she had just swallowed a lemon.
One of the men at Bukowski's table asks for an autograph. He thinks "Buk" is Mickey Mantle. 
"Sign it Number 7!" he says hopefully, and guides his hero's hand to a pen, but sadly,
The hand falls off and tumbles onto the floor.

"Janitorial!" calls Savanna. She can be a smart ass.

Just then, the little bell over the door jangles,
And in walk the Queen Of The Vampires and the Dark-Haired Chick.
They are hanging all over each other. It's lovely.

"What's this?" asks the QOTV, staring at the something which is apparently holding a salon in the corner of Danny's.
"It's Charles Bukowski," says Chloe, already sounding bored with her toy.
"Eww," say all the regulars.

The Dark Haired Chick grabs their usual booth, and the QOTV slides in beside her.
She starts to tear at the booth out of habit, then realizes she is not in panther form this morning. 
Then she looks sheepish.

"Write me a poem, baby," she asks the Dark-Haired Chick.
Out comes a pen.
Out come some napkins from the holder.
She writes she writes she writes she writes, then stops;
The napkins burst into flame and black smoke rises from them.

"God, you're good," says the QOTV.
The Dark-Haired Chick smiles like a Cheshire cat.
There is a thud from across the room.
Charles Bukowski has fallen over!
"You did him in, babe," says the QOTV.

Never mess with a Scorpio. Especially not *the* Scorpio.

The girls drag the fallen something out back to the dumpster, 
And get rid of him along with yesterday's bagels.
"See ya, Chuckie!" says Chloe, and struts back across the parking lot.

She adjusts well to life's vagaries.

bottom photo of Danny's Coffee Shop by Daryl Edelstein!


hedgewitch said…
The last line is possibly the biggest exercise in understatement EVAH. I am laughing at poor Charles and his wayward disintegrating body parts,(the lines about God, St Creola and the red ear also tickled my fancy)and enjoying the flare of spontaneous combustion from the smokin napkins. Always great to get my Sinday, er..Sunday morning fix at Danny's.
Sioux Roslawski said…
What a wonderful Sunday buffet of delights. I profess I did check out just WHO Charles Bukowski was. However, it sounds like being dumped with yesterday's bagels was too good of an end for him...
Sherry Blue Sky said…
God, you're good, she says, batting out the flaming embers under her monitor.

You are. Seriously. I have never been so well entertained in my life:)
Kerry O'Connor said…
All I can say is this is quite some introduction to Danny's Coffee Shop, and to Chloe, whom I have never met before. I shall follow her adventures closely.
Lynn said…
Love that last line, too. Danny's is such a cool place.
Oh are so freaking hilarious. This is an excellent short story. I was shocked that Bukowski was in it!
Maude Lynn said…

Oh, I howled!
Dianne said…
yep, Janitorial got me too!!

ahhhh, the hell and insanity hidden behind vinyl swivel stools

you're brilliant
and Daryl takes good photos
HermanTurnip said…
Ya know, a dead Charles Bukowski could still me under the table any day.

Oh, and be sure to leave the waitress a healthy tip when you leave...
Cloudia said…
and an original Daryl E?! Wow!

""Ow ow ow ow ow ow owwwwwwwwwwww!" yelps the serial murderess."

You rock BIG time.

Aloha from Honolulu
Comfort Spiral


This week's words are up, Shay. I hope you'll come write for me:
Daryl said…
I couldnt be happier .. I adore stories about Danny's and while I was a bit upset that the prototype formerly called EJ's Luncheonette was remodeled, renamed (Amsterdam Diner) and redone from its red booths, bar stools to .. lets not go there .. thanks to Faye at Sleepless in Gainesville for helping me get the uck out and red back in

now I want more Danny's!!!!!
Gotta admit, all the Bukowski / Buk fanboy bashing that went on here stung, but it was perfectly placed. Holy cow, you've got an imagination and talent that's so prodigious that I'd hate your guts (outta envy) if I wasn't absolutely in love with you(r writing). This was writing of the highest calibre - luv luv luvved it.

Your reader and fan, Moskowitz
PS - Would it help my street cred if I told you that all throughout reading this, my mind was playing Rickie Lee Jones' "Danny's All-Star Joint?" - mosk
TALON said…
I think I have perfect timing...coming back to a slice of life at Danny's :)

Loved it, Shay. I know a few Scorpios and I've never messed with them...I definitely wouldn't mess with "the" one. :)
Helen said…
Spirit, what do you wish to tell us? I never tire of reading you .....
ellen abbott said…
well, how did I miss this one? gotta love the girls.
Lolamouse said…
Still laughing! Disintegrating bodies of dead poets always make for fun reading in my book! Brava!