Saturday, March 10, 2012

ROBBLOG # 387 W E E K E N D Edition

The café was crowded.

People were laughing.
People were talking.
Glasses were tinkling and the sound of utensils and dishes filled the room. 

Café Flora was popular with an older crowd who still liked to think young.
They came to Café Flora to unwind.
To talk about their kids.
Their life.
The future. 

Dale was sitting at a corner table with his husband Ron who had just finished a particularly stressful week at work.

“God, I can’t believe it’s the weekend. It took ages to get here!”

“Well it’s here, so just sit and relax Hunnie. Drink your Martini before it gets warm.” Dale pushed the glass closer to Ron.

“Full house here tonight.” Ron sipped his dirty. 

“Yes, the seniors are out in full regalia tonight- that’s for sure.” Dale picked up Café Flora’s menu and browsed for an appetizer. 

“Sweetie.” Ron reached across the table and touched Dale’s tanned hand. “What’s with the four strangers at the bar. Isn’t that the Nazi Swastika emblazoned on their sleeves?” 

“What? Where?”- Dale turned and looked to his left and right. 

“Over there Darling. The four with beers, scooping peanuts from the bar bowls.” Ron sipped at his Martini as Dale turned to have a look. 

“Cripes, Ron. That doesn’t look good. Who the hell are they?” Dale was worried. 

Suddenly two of the stranger’s voices got louder at the Bartender opposite them. Something about having every right to be at the bar just like the rest of the Arians. 

“Arians? What the hell are they talking about Ron?” 

“Beats me. There’s going to be trouble.”
Ron was spot on.

One of the four picked up a bar chair and threw it over the bar in the general direction of the tender. Another grabbed the bartender’s head and slammed it hard into the granite surface lined with beer bottles.
Blood spewed from the bartenders face.
People started screaming. 

“Holy Fuck! C’mon Dale!” Ron grabbed Dale’s arm and they ran for the door.

There were more crashes with the sound of breaking glass. Dale and Ron reached the front door of Café Flora and raced outside only pausing for a moment to tell diners about to head into the Café to “think twice”. 

They dashed across the street and hid behind a row of evergreens, watching the scene transpiring in front of them. The screaming became louder as patrons flew out the Café’s front door. 

“This is nuts!”- Ron whispered to Dale. 

“I know. Where the Fuck are we- Russia? Afghanistan? Who are those neo-Nazis anyway and what are they doing in Café Flora?”
Dale couldn’t believe his eyes. 

“I have no idea Hun but I suggest we move along. The cops will be here soon- I’m sure.”
Ron nudged Dale in the direction of a corner parking lot. They skipped along and soon were at least two blocks away from the mayhem. 

“What a way to ruin a perfectly good Friday evening.” Dale shook his head. 

“At least we’re safe from those idiots. That’s a good thing.” Ron tried to sound calm for Dale’s sake. 

Walking arm and arm along Fifth Street- stopping to browse in shop windows along the way, they soon decided to go to ‘Winnies’ another favourite café and attempt to start their evening over. As they passed by Figaro’s- a fancy men’s shop, they both paused to window-shop. Dale dropped Ron’s arm and walked further along the entrance towards the shop door.
The store was closed but he wanted to peek through the entrance to see what goodies were inside. As he turned the corner off the sidewalk he stopped with a shuddering start. In front of him were two of the strangers from Café Flora.
They obviously had made their escape as well.
Dale started to shake. 

One of the two- a female, turned to Dale and with hands on hips and said to the blonde-haired hulk standing next to her-
“Well whaddah ya know. It’s one of the Weiner boys I saw at the Café. Right wiener boy?” Her eyes sunk deeply into Dale’s. He could see the swastika on the arm of her coat. 

Dale was shaking. He managed to mumble- “Whaat? Do I know yooouuu?” 

“Oh Dear me. The little pouffe fag boy is asking us a question Gustaff.” She looked up into her partner's large face. Gustaff smiled with big teeth.

Turning to Dale she continued-
“You are saying ‘what’ little piggy boy? Who takes it up the ass with glee- no doubt!”

She laughed and slapped Gustaff across his hard gut.
“What a poor, disgusting choice for a human being you are wiener boy!”
Gustaff laughed even louder. Dale could see Gustaff’s huge biceps curl tightly beneath the body-sculpting, black tee shirt he was wearing. 

Dale stood still- as still as he could, hiding the panic inside.
“Ummm, I think I had better go now. It’s really been lovely talking to you. Have a good night.” Dale turned and walked carefully towards Ron who was still browsing the clothing inside the store’s massive front window.
“Ummm, Ron. I think we have a problem here.”

“What Hunnie?” 

“We have a problem, Dear. Look behind me.” Dale was gritting his teeth. “El Nazi pinkos are right behind me hiding from the police.” Dale motioned over his shoulder. 

As Ron looked past Dale he could see the Nazis in question.
“Yikes! He pushed Dale behind him and confronted the two standing in the shadows.
“Look, you two assholes had better just leave us alone or there’ll be H E double Hockey sticks to pay here and I don’t want to have to get nasty.” 

The two swastika-wearing strangers laughed and stepped forward out of the shadows.
Ron stood his ground. The two stepped towards him once more. 

“That’s far enough!”- Ron said in a steady voice. 

“This? This you think is far enough?” It was Gustaff speaking. 

“Yes!” Ron replied, “You have frightened my husband here and it must stop. Now toddle along your way and we’ll say good night.”
All Ron heard was laughter.
“Toddle?” Gustaff seemed amused. 

“Look! I‘ve had just about enough.”
Ron was getting a wee bit pissed.

“We are out for a pleasant evening after a stress-filled work week and neither of us needed two Nazi Bozo’s- such as yourselves, attempting to ruin it for us!” 

With that said, Ron stepped forward and punched Gustaff square in the face with tremendous force using his huge, right fist. Then, he kicked the woman in her stomach apologizing as he did so.
Both of them fell flat to the pavement.
Neither moved.
They were out cold. 

Turning to Dale, Ron smiled brushing his hands together and said- “Well that’s that Darling. Now how about another Martini and some dinner?- I’m starving!”

“Well no wonder!” Dale grabbed Ron’s arm- “That’s quite a workout my baby just had.” 

They giggled as they walked on down the street in the direction of Winnies.
Passing two cops running along on foot, Ron yelled out to them- “You’ll want to check that storefront there. I think you’ll find part of what you’re looking for this evening, officers!”
The officers nodded and ran on. 

Police sirens raced by on the street disappearing in the direction of Café Flora as Dale and Ron walked arm and arm, smiling lovingly at one another.