Reggie?

Underage girl Reginald Death o humorous visiting dancer portrait o tragic Friendship with Stan o cant wrap his mind around fact that stan is dead The Colnolel Yolanda Father Bob Culminating Event: Miscarriage Loss of children Failed Relationship o due to loss of innocence o due to secret career

Reginald
Reginald was drunk, again. He was camped under his favorite Budweiser clydesdale lamp and was nursing his old fashioned, or at least what he thought was an old fashioned, unbeknowest to him, the bartender, Esmeralda, did not know what the hell an old fashioned was and would just serve him Jim Beam with an orange peel haphazardly tossed in. Reginald didnt seem to mind though; he would tell anyone who would listen to him that Esmeralda was the best damned bartender in town because she made the best old fashioneds.

Reginald was long in the tooth. At 73 years old, he valued his independence above all things. He insisted on driving his impeccably clean 1992 Buick LaSabre anywhere he went. Everything about Reginald was neat, he never untucked his short sleeved oxford shirts which drapped over his bony frame. Moreover, his whispy fine white hair was always close cropped and never seemed out of place. He did not wear glasses. To him, such devices were a sign of frailty and he was desperate to show the world that he was alive and well and still had a say in whatever fate happened to bring upon him. Reginalds skinnyness was accentuated by his height, he was a strapping 63- which made him a giant in Victoria. His trousers were always

pressed and pleaded, albeit one size too big. This problem was alleviated by the Philmont leather belt his grandson had made for him.

For some strange reason, all the girls loved Reginald. They would rush to him on slow days when the club was dead just to hear his antiquated form of flirting. His jokes and zingers seemed chivalrous when compared to the random ass slaps they would get from the less articulate customers. Since Reginald was camped at the end of the bar by the front door, the dancers would all stop and give him a hug whenever they entered. Sometimes they would even share whatever food they happened to bring for lunch with the old man, who would insist they finish their meals or risk looking too damned skinny.

This attention did not go unnoticed. Who the fuck is that guy, Jim said as he saw Reginald gropingly hug stripper after stripper. Oh, thats Reginald replied Esmeralda. Does he own the place? How does he have all the dancers hanging all over him? Jim wondered aloud. Nah, he is just a retired locksmith who comes in everyday, I really dont think the place could function without him Esmeralda replied. Huh, must be loaded smirked Jim. Jim could not have been anymore wrong. Reginald collected social security and that was about it. He lived in the house he built in the 50s which was old, falling apart, but clean and paid for. He hated being

home alone, mostly because he was surrounded by maintence projects which he could do in his younger days but was unable to do in the twilight of his old age. Rather than hiring a handyman and thus raising a white flag in his bitter fight against father time, he did what most men do best, he distracted himself from his problems with booze and women.

With his wife gone to the great hereafter and his kids relocated to Dallas, Reginald trasured his interactions with everyone at the club, although you would never get him to admit it. Play some goddammend music for a change, dont you got any Franky Sinatra! he cried out to Pat the DJ. Pat was enclosed in a both and thus hidden from the naked eye, however Reginalds shouts attracted his attention. Franky who? Franky J? That is way too old school my man, but here check this out Pat then proceeded to play Ludacris Southern Hospitality. There ya go Reggie, an old school joint! Reginald was so angry he stood up...then immediately sat back down and ordered another old fashioned. And this time easy on the bitters! Si senor Reggie,replied Esmeralda, with a smile wondering to herself where one goes to even buy bitters. Reginald then proceeded gaze upon the HD LCD tv and have sports highlights flash across his pupils until he finally doozed off for his 3 oclock nap.

**SLAP** Reginald was under attack. His assailant had taken the upperhand and rendered him disorientated. The faint taste of baby lotion was on his lips and for some reason, he was slightly aroused. By the time he opened his eyes, everyone at the bar was having a good laugh. Buenas dias Reggie! cried out Marisol, a woman from Matamoros with gigantic 37EE breasts, one of which was in Reginalds face pinning his head to the wooden bar. What in tarnations! screamed Reginald. Will if I had to die, I guess suffocating on your titty is as good a way to go as any said Reginald with a sly grin. Reginald then proceeded to sink his teeth into the breast until Marisol screamed and began cursing at him in machine gun spanish. At this point, everyone at the bar lost their shit and could not stop laughing for atleast 5 minutes.