The Las Nevadas Psycho

HARRY'S

It is night time as I and Foolish Gamers- slicked back dark brown hair, nonprescription glasses- walk down Hanover Street, heading silently towards Harry's as if guided by radar even though we have not discussed this but it seems as if he is too lost in his own thoughts to complain. Foolish has not said anything so far and neither have I and he seems a little on-edge. I do not bother to ask why. He's wearing a wool tweed suit and a striped cotton shirt, both by Yves Saint Laurent, and a silk tie by Armani and new black cap-toed shoes by Ferragamo.
I am wearing new nonprescription Oliver Peoples redwood-framed glasses, a black and white houndstooth-check single-breasted suit with notch lapels, a striped cotton dress shirt with spread collar and a silk paisley tie, all of it designed and tailored by John Reyle.
The Patty Winters Show this morning was about Shark Attack Victims.

In fact, Foolish is so on-edge that he does not even comment on the homeless bum begging for money behind the dumpster off Stone Street. Once inside Harry's we spot George Davidson and Karl Jacobs at a table up front. Jacobs is wearing a woven-linen suit with pleated trousers, a button-down cotton and linen shirt by Basile, a silk tie by Joseph Abboud and ostrich loafers from Susan Bennis Warren Edwards. Davidson is wearing a double-breasted wool and silk sport coat, button-fly wool and silk trousers with inverted pleats by Mario Valentino, a cotton shirt by Gitman Brothers, a polka-dot silk tie by Bill Blass and leather shoes from Brooks Brothers.
Foolish throws his Tumi leather attaché case on an empty chair and heads towards the bar. I call out to him for a J&B on the rocks.

"Hey Soot," Davidson says in a voice that suggests this is not his first martini. "Heard about the new guy?"
"Oh shit, don't tell Soot," Jacobs moans, sipping on his martini.
"Jacobs?" Davidson says.
"Yeah?"
Davidson hesitates, then says, "Shut up" in a flat voice.
"What are you screwballs on about?" I spot Jack Manifold standing at the bar next to Gamers, who is utterly ignoring him. Manifold is not well-dressed: a four button double-breasted wool suit, I think by Chaps, a striped cotton shirt and a silk bow tie plus horn-rimmed glasses by Oliver Peoples.
"Soot, there's a new guy coming," Jacobs begins.
Jack spots me, smiles weakly, then if I'm not mistaken, blushes and turns back to the bar. Bartenders always ignore Manifold for some reason.
Foolish comes over with drinks and I graciously accept my J&B on the rocks, handing him a twenty as compensation.
"We have this bet to see which one of us will find out what he's all about first. What do you think?" Davidson demands.
"About what?"
"The new guy!"
"Soot loves him," Jacobs says. "I saw him get sodomised up the ass by him just yesterday."
"Tell that to your fiancée," I say, "if she'll take the time to pull my dick out of her mouth."

"Anyway, new guy is coming on Monday. And get this-!" Davidson says, then starts laughing before telling us. "Soot, you know that empty office next to yours? Well, guess where he's going to have his office!"
Davison, Gamers and Jacobs start laughing as I groan and run my fingers through my slicked-back hair before stopping since I used good gel to style it this morning.
"Really? Oh my god, of course I'll get the fucking newbie," I complain.
"Hey man, it's not that bad," Davidson says, putting his arm around me in an utterly annoying way so I bat it away.
"Do that again and you'll draw back a stump," I say threateningly.
They all start laughing, unaware that I would gladly cut off Davidson's arms and much more if given the opportunity or place.
"What's this asshole's name, anyways?" I ask, pausing to sigh. "So I can avoid him."
"Name's Alex Quackity."
"What kinda name is that?"
"Who knows." Jacobs takes a sip of his drink before speaking. "Soot, we're heading off to that new bar Tunnel, you coming?"

"Oh shit," Gamers begins. "We're going to Tunnel? Last week I picked up this Vassar chick-"
"Oh god, not again," Davidson groans.
"What's your problem?" Gamers snaps back.
"I was there. I don't need to hear the story again."
"But I never told you what happened afterwards," Gamers says, raising an eyebrow.
"You guys went there? When?" I ask.
"You were on that fucking cruise thing. Now shut up and listen. So okay, I picked up this Vassar chick at Tunnel- hot number, big tits, great legs, this chick was a little hardbody- and so I buy her a couple champagne kirs and she's in the city on spring break and she's practically blowing me in the Chandelier Room-"
"Woah, woah, woah," I say. "Where's your fiancée in all of this?"
Gamers winces. "Oh, fuck you. I want a blow-job, Soot. I want a chick who will let me-"
"I don't want to hear this," Davidson says, putting his hands over his ears. "He's going to say something disgusting."
"Prude," Gamers sneers. "Listen, we're not going to invest in a co-op together or jet down to Saint Bart's. I just want some chick whose face I can sit on for thirty, forty minutes."
I throw my swizzle stick at him.