Redeployment(73)

“You were playing her,” he said. “And it worked. So you wanted to choke her?”

“Yeah.” I laugh. “That’s kind of f*cked up.”

“At least you’re getting some.”

“I’d rather go to Nevada, f*ck a prostitute.” I almost believe what I’m saying. Using money would be better. But I’d probably just end up telling the hooker about Jenks anyway.

Jenks looks down at his glass, his eyes tight.

“You ever thought of getting a hooker?” I ask. “We could check the ads at the back of the Village Voice, see if anybody catches your eye. Why not?”

Jenks takes a sip of water. “You think I can’t get some?” His voice sounds playful, like he’s making a joke, but I can’t tell.

“No,” I say.

“Not even a pity f*ck?”

“You don’t want that.”

“No, I don’t.”

I look at the girls down at the other end of the bar. Pretty girl’s got dark hair slashing down the side of her face and a lip piercing. Her friend is in a bright green coat.

“Think of all those other burn victims out there.” I look back at Jenks and give him a big grin. “And really fat chicks.”

“And chicks with AIDS,” he says.

“Nah, that’s not enough. Maybe, like, AIDS and herpes combined.”

“Yeah, that sounds awesome,” he says. “I’ll put an ad on Craigslist.”

Now he’s laughing for sure. Even before he got hit, when things got shitty he’d start laughing. I keep a smile plastered on my face, but for some reason now I start feeling it, the same feeling I get when I talk about Jenks and I get into it for real. Sometimes, when I’m drunk and I’m with a chick who seems like she cares, I let it out. Problem is, if I do, I can’t sleep with her. Or I shouldn’t, because then I feel like shit afterward and I walk around the city wanting to kill someone.

“There’s plenty other guys like me,” Jenks says. “I know one guy, got married, he’s having a kid.”

“Anything can happen,” I say.

“It’s bullshit anyway.” There’s a bit of hardness in his voice.

“What?”

“Finding somebody.”

I’m not sure if he’s serious.

“I was okay at it before,” he says. “And in dress blues I was a f*cking player. Now, it’d be insulting for me to even roll up on a chick.”

“Like, ‘Hey, I think you’re ugly enough you might f*ck me.’” I put a stupid smile on my face, but Jenks doesn’t seem to notice.

“Nobody wants this,” he says. “Nobody even wants to have to look past this. It’s too much.”

There’s a little silence where I’m trying to come up with something to say to that, and then Jenks puts his hand on my arm.

“But it’s okay,” he says. “I’ve given up.”

“Yeah? That’s okay?”

“You see that girl over there?”

Jenks points to the pair of girls, and though he doesn’t specify, he’s obviously talking about the hot one.

“Before, I’d see her, and I’d feel like I had to come up with a plan, get her to talk to me. But now, with Jessie and Sarah”—he checks his watch—“whenever they get here, I can just have a conversation.” He looks briefly back at the girls. “Used to be, I could never just sit in a bar with a woman.” He looks at me, then back to the girls. “Now, knowing I got no chance, it’s relaxing. I don’t have to bother. Nobody’s gonna think I’m less of a man if I can’t pick up some girl. I only talk to people I actually give a shit about.”

He raises his glass and I clink mine with his. Someone told me toasting with water was bad luck, but there’s got to be an exception for guys like Jenks.

“As for kids,” Jenks says, “I’m gonna give my shit to a sperm bank.”

“Serious?”

“Hell yeah. The Jenks line ain’t gonna die with me. My sperm isn’t disfigured.”

I have nothing to say to that.

“I’ll have some baby out there,” Jenks continues. “Some little Jenks running around. Won’t be called Jenks, but I can’t have everything, can I?”

“No,” I say. “You can’t.”