I rolled over in bed. The little rays of sunlight streaming in through my window made my headache pound even harder. Tim Shepard sure knows how to throw a party. I looked over to see bottles of beer on the floor, along with my clothes. I sat up, wincing at the familiar pain of a hangover. I always seemed to be getting drunk off my ass, but what did it matter? Being out in the streets makes beer a medicine.
It was early afternoon. I could of stayed in bed longer, but I didn't want to be in Tim Shepard's any longer than I had to be. I propped myself up, letting my head get used to the fact I was getting up. Slowly, I made my way to get dressed. Jeans, blue teeshirt, and sneakers. I slipped on my leather jacket, checked my hair in the mirror, and left.
I took a cancerstick out of my pocket and lit it. Another form of street medication. I took a long drag, feeling the nicotine inflame my lungs and lips. Greaser girls love nicotine filled lips. They eat it up. And who could blame them? We're probably the only boys who'd give them the nicotine kisses.
It was a cool day in Tulsa. Not like freezing, doesn't get too cold here in Oklahoma, but it was cold enough to wear a jacket and actually need it. Greasers wear jackets for the kicks, but mostly to take stuff off shelves and hide. We can hide a lot in our jackets. We've been raised to be slick.
"Hey, Dally." came a voice from behind me. I turned and smiled. Ponyboy and Johnny, just as I thought.
"Hey kids." I said cooly. I took a puff on my cigarette.
"How was Shepard's?" Johnny asked. I shrugged. Truth be told, I don't quiet remember what went down. Alcohol will do that to you, mainly cause you don't want to remember.
"It was okay." I decided.
Ponyboy looked at me, "We was just heading over to The Dingo. You wanna join us?"
I nodded. Wasn't like I had anything to do, anyways. The Dingo was about a 15 minute walk from our current location.
Ah, the Dingo. I've picked many a broad up that filth. But you gotta appreciate it, cause sometimes there's a real looker in there. I've picked a few up, all pretty lousy. But a girls a girl.
Johnny pushed the door open, and we filed inside.
"Hey, Dally, there's a Soc girl here." Johnny whispered, pointing to the counter. Sure enough, there she was. She stood out in her pink dress and white sweater. Her hair wasn't right in here either. All blonde and up in a beehive. Ain't no Greaser chick gonna waste a can of hairspray on looking like that.
I strolled over. "What's a classy chick like you doing in a rundown old dump like The Dingo?" I asked. She turned, clearly annoyed. She had glasses she obviously didn't need, and she was chewing her gum ferociously. She was annoyed. And I liked it.
"What's it matter to you?" she asked.
I chuckled, "Well, you filing out an application, baby? Cause you get stuck with me here. Ain't that right, boys?"
Johnny nodded, and Ponyboy just stared out the window. He always was doing that.
She flushed. "Can't you just bug off? You're a pest."
"I'm a menace to society, baby. I was born to pester the rich, the poor, the fuzz, and everyone alike." I chucked. Man, do I love hacking off the Soc girls.
"You better stop before I call the cops-"
I laughed. "You should see my record, baby. Ain't no fuzz gonna scare me. And you better believe it."
I stared at her application, and laughed. "Oh, and by the way, your pen has made a hole in the paper." I chuckled and walked off.
"Come on, kids, we don't wanna ruin the little Soc's air."
"And she threatened to call the fuzz? Does she know what part of Tulsa she's in?" laughed Two-Bits. I took a drag on my cigarette.
"Hell if I know. But she wasn't too bad looking either. Better than some chicks."
Steve straightened, "So old Dallas Winston is back to his usual tricks, is he?"
I took one long drag on the flaming stick between my lips. I gave Steve my famous glare, and after sucking on the cigarette for a bit, said, "Thought you used them, too, last time I checked."
I sure can shut people up. Something I find handy, ain't no complaining there. Steve just took a sip of beer and looked down at his feet.
"I'm gonna go hunt for some action, any of you wanna come?"
Two-Bits nodded, but Steve passed. Figures, he's probably gonna go to the Curtis house. It's where everyone goes to feel accepted. It's pretty homey, better than my house or Steve's could offer.
"Ready to hunt for some action?" Two-Bits asked.
I nodded. Boy howdy, wasn't I ever ready?
