I. The Jade Lounge
With a name like The Jade Lounge rolling off the tongue, one might begin to form images of a classy establishment drenched in the finest décor afforded from the Far East. An establishment that serviced businessmen and maybe after a few drinks of Sake a round of karaoke to tie the bonds of business partnership. And if not a classy networking restaurant then maybe a seedy little strip club that specialized in Asian girls that don’t speak much English but understand money and the concept of extra – as in “special services.” In any case, the keywords “Jade” and “Lounge” would evoke class, wealth, possibly bare skin and relaxation on its name. Sad to say, this isn’t true.
The Jade Lounge, which is actually a little hole in the wall bar on the south-side of Chicago, is anything but classy and relaxing but it does demand respect. The bar itself sits between a dilapidated building and a vacant lot. Much to the dismay of its customers, the sign does not glow an iridescent green as the name might suggest it should but rather a dull orange and only four of its letters light up THE JADE LOUNGE. Given that most of its patrons have been to such a place and do spell it in the very same manner as the bar is often nicknamed by the younger crowd passing through as JALE, the regulars know what it is. You wouldn’t go to this place if you’re having a good day. It’s pretty much a given that if you step into The Jade on any night of the week the phrase “fucked up” will either describe your day, your week, or your mental state before entering. And after you’ve had a few, your state of being as you leave.
This was not “Cheers” where everyone knew your name. No one gave a damn about who you were, what you’ll become, or who you used to be. As a matter of fact, the bar’s slogan as set forth by its proprietors John and Mary is: “Drink and Shut the Fuck Up”. And should you have a hard time remembering that one of the regulars would gladly help you with that issue!
The bar was old. The chairs were in need of repair which is why no one came to “relax” in the bar, relaxing too much might cause you injury or a bruised ego. It had a busted Jukebox that only played Elvis songs because that’s what Mary liked. The wall behind the juke even had a gallery of photos, all with Elvis in them and a picture of him standing right next to the very same jukebox that played his music day in and day out. Then as you were traveling down the little dimly light hall that led to the restrooms, there on the left side of the wall – leaning a bit due to the rusted nail that broke off years ago was a paint chipped and antiqued condom machine. Women who visited the bar and passed this machine thought the condoms must be outdated while the regulars who’ve been coming to the bar for years on end knew that to be a fact. And the only thing jade in the bar might have been the mold creeping up along the walls in the bathroom and kitchen after a good rain but this is where Russ decided to meet his new friend; in a building, in his own city on familiar ground.
He told her if she was ever in town that she should look him up. It was a friendly invitation to a complete stranger that he met maybe 3 months back on Facebook. He liked her; she listened to him, asked questions and took a real interest in his stories. He liked that and that’s why he liked her. Most nights they talked until he was ready to call it quits. But felt easily as if he could go on and on with the things they discussed. It felt easy and the invitation was innocent enough, he just wanted the chance to hang out with her should she come by his way. No tricks, nothing of the sort – just two people getting together to have a drink and chat it up for a couple of hours.
But as enamored as he was with his new friend, he was also a little pissed and on the edge of panic. He began to worry if telling her to meet him at this bar in particular on the south side was such a good idea. It was dark and not every Chi-town citizen was as nice and welcoming as he was and that was truly saying something. So far he’d made two trips outside the bar to give a quick look up and down the street to check – just to make sure. She was well past an hour late, he had even tried calling the front desk of her hotel and leaving a couple of messages on her cell for her to reach him…still nothing.
Another 30 minutes went by and Russ decided it was time to leave. After 5 beers, he knew she had stood him up – he cursed her and himself for being so giddy about meeting her and for waiting so long when he could’ve been at home in bed. He didn’t have to work but still – bed was better than wasting time on a no show. He grabbed his jacket, tossed it on – left his drinking arrears on the table then headed for the door. As he stepped outside, he put a cigarette to his lips and searched his pockets for a lighter. The wind kicked up to a stronger than normal gust just as he was about to light it and tore it from his mouth, his last one. He watched as his cigarette was carried away on the wind and out of his reach and sight. Thunder rolled overhead and the first little pellets of rain began to fall.
The night was getting ugly, this wasn’t forecasted – the wind maybe, but the storm? There had been no mention of a storm. He ran over to his car hiking his jacket up over his head to keep the rain out of his eyes also while keeping his shoulder length hair from getting wet then dipped into his pocket for his keys. The street lamp just 5 feet away from the car went dark with a spectacular show, as if someone had shot out the bulb. It caused him to jump back and look up at the sparks sailing through the wind and rain. Another strong gust of wind blew at his back and knocked him the slightest bit off balance and into the side of his car. “Shit!” he said as the rain began to pound down on and around him. He turned back toward the door of the bar and made a run for it. He decided waiting it out was the best thing to do so he ran inside the bar shook him-self free of the rain and headed for the men’s room.
Exiting the men’s room slightly drier than he was upon coming into the building out of the rain, he walked toward the bar and stopped in his tracks, eyes frozen on the vision set before him. He took a glance at the clock over the bar and walked slowly toward a young woman seated there with not an ounce of rain on her. He rattled around a thought, had she been here this whole time- surely I’d have seen her right?
When he reached her he spoke softly, “Rhay?” The young woman turned her head toward the sound of her name as if giving the speaker recognition, then said “Yes” in more of a question than a statement to the reflection of the man that stood beside her in the bar’s mirror.
“Have a seat Russ.”
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