The Beat by Simon Payne

then, piss off.” And he left. As he started his bike the kid emerged from the pissoir. He looked over to Robbo. Robbo waved his arm in the direction of the sauna. The kid nodded and waved back. Robbo didn’t wait to see if he had understood the direction. He found he was sweating. It was the thought of the first guy he had picked up in a bog. The memory of it always brought out a sweat.
     
    When he finally got to the pub, he had to push his way through the crowds to get a beer. Once served, he turned round, leaning with his back to the bar to survey the throng and make his choice. The place was really hopping for a Thursday night. The crowd was a fairly mixed lot. A lot of the faces he knew, but they weren’t there to socialize. He exchanged a few nods of acknowledgement, nothing more. He decided to lean back and let himself be hustled, let someone else do the work after his first exploit for the night. He was displayed well enough. He made himself available and was sure enough of himself to just let it happen. Sipping his beer, his eyes casually spanned the room. The space-invader machines were doing great business. High scoring here in all regards. The younger group seemed to congregate there. Outside, through to the beer garden, looked quieter. It was always an older crowd sitting out there. Most of them arrived in pairs and weren’t part of the market; just there to meet and bitch with old friends. Robbo lounged on up against the bar. After a while he became aware that a face through the crowd was trying to catch his eye. He leant back on the bar and sipped his beer. He gave nothing away. His drink was nearly finished. A figure pushed through the crowds and up to him, ostensively to get a drink.
    “Hi,” the guy said as he pushed through to the bar. Robbo nodded.
    “It sure is crowded here tonight.” There was a slight accent that Robbo couldn’t place. “Always jumping on a Thursday night,” he replied. The guy waited there in silence. He was facing the bar but in no hurry to be served.
    “Can I get you a drink?” he asked. Robbo had made sure his glass was empty.
    “Beer,” Robbo replied and waited. The guy turned his back and attracted the barman’s attention. He had a good arse, Robbo noted. He bought two beers, handing one to Robbo.
    “My name’s Angel,” he smiled.
    “Angel! What kind of a name’s that?” Robbo asked.
    “Just my name, I guess.” He paused.
    “Where you from?” Robbo asked.
    “I live here two years, before that, New York City.”
    “Yeah, but you got an accent.”
    “Well, I’m from Puerto Rico before that.”
    “Puerto Rico, eh!”
    “Yes, Puerto Rico.” He smiled and looked as if something important had been established.
    “And you?” he asked.
    “Me? Born here.” Robbo sipped his beer and gazed absently away. He’d have this one anyway, so may as well make the guy work at it. He didn’t look bad. Pretty dark. Robbo thought he might have an uncircumcised cock. He could see it was a fair size.
    “I live here two years with a lover but it didn’t work out,” Angel continued.
    “Tough.” Robbo wasn’t at all interested.
    “I met him in New York and came here to him but no good. He play around, you know.” Robbo looked at the anxious face. He couldn’t give a shit.
    “What are you doing here tonight then, mate?”
    “It’s all over now, I move out.”
    “Will you go back to New York?” Robbo thought he’d better play him along a bit. Angel paused, unsure how to answer.
    “What’s it like there anyhow?” Robbo asked.
    “New York? Well, you know anything about horses? New York City is like a bronco horse. Once it’s been messed up, you know, wrongly broken, then it’s out of control for all time. That’s New York City.”
    “Shit, I’ve never heard a city compared to a horse before. You’re crazy, man.”
    “Yes I’m crazy.” And Angel smiled happily. Robbo leant back on the bar, arching his back and thrusting his crotch foward.