Maria stood under an awning in front of the lobby of the Ritz Carlton talking to the bell hop.
Mac sat at a makeshift desk cleaning weed listening to The Golden Palominos. He received a message stuffed a pipe, took three hits, turned off the sterio, shuffled the weed on the desk into a bag and walked outside and jumped in a cab.
"Cab 1819," Mac said.
Mac lit a cigarette, waited for his pager to beeb. It went off, he read "Ritz Carlton 2401 E Camelback see bellhop."
He smiled, promising he thought, drove a half mile pulled into the parking lot, saw a girl making hand jesters to a man wearing a funny looking uniform. Mac rolled down the window,"did you call a cab," he asked and turned up the heater. The guy in the funny looking uniform pointed at the girl. "For her," he said.
"You called me a cab," she said and stumbled."I thought we were going to party."
She's pretty good looking or really good looking, Mac thought. "How drunk is she?" Mac asked.
"Really drunk," the girl said and laughed.
"And then some," the guy in the uniform said.
"You're coming home with me,"she said and grabbed his arm. She tried to drag him toward the cab. He escaped. "I have to work."
Mac laughed. "Where you headed?" He asked.
She pointed south east. "Over there."
The man in uniform leaned into the window. "Please get her out of here."
"If she wants to go and can tell me where she lives I'll take her."
"I told you where I live," she said, walked to the door and opened it. "Can I sit up here?" She sat in the car.
"I need something more specific than a general direction."
She smiled. "Of coarse you do. Let's move. This place let me down."
"Sorry to hear that. Over there," Mac said, and pointed south east.
She laughed. "Percisislly."
Mac turned the car around and headed south east.
"What time is it?"
"One thirty."
"They kicked me out of the bar. I was the only one in there and they kicked me out. They wouldn't put my drink in a to go glass.?
Mac laughed. It turned into a grin.
"You have a pretty smile. It isn't funny. They even kicked me out of the lobby. I didn't even want to be there. My friends met some boys from Colorado, I think and left me. I'm OK with that. I can take care of myself."
"I bet you can."
"I can. Turn left."
He turned left.
"Next right."
A couple turns latter they pulled up to a small red brick apartment.
"Mi casa."
"Nice place."
"It's not."
"It looks OK from here."
"Looks can be deceiving."
"True."
"What do I owe you Mac?"
"How you know my name?"
"Your name is Mac. I meant Mac like in would you like a drink Mac or hey Mac or how much do I owe you Mac?"
"Five bucks."
She handed him a twenty. "Keep it."
"Thanks a lot."
"I hope my friends are alright."
"They probably are."
"That's a bold statement Mac," she said and laughed. You never said if you would like a drink."
"Yeah. Why not?"
"I have half a bottle of vodka in my freezer."
"Sounds good."
"Absolute. A lot of people prefer Kettle One or Grey Goose. I do not."
"I don't either."
She smiled. "Come on."
Mac couldn't decide whether her face was pretty or cute. She wore cowgirl jeans that flattered her damn near perfect ass, a well made white blouse, hair short and well styled, nose damn near as perfect as her ass, brown eyes that looked sad even when she was laughing or smiling. He decided both. He followed her into a room. A giant TV dominated the space, dwarfing a couch and a chair placed to close to the TV and a small table covered with magazines an ashtray ashes and an assortment of garbage. She walked in without unlocking the door. "Excuse the mess. I clean on Saturday. Guys only care about the TV right. It's one of the biggest ones they make." She turned it on, walked into the kitchen. Mac sat down. She came back with two milk glasses three quarters full of Vodka and handed one to Mac. "Thanks."
"Your welcome."
She sat next to him, picked up the remote, found a station advertising a kitchen knife, took a drink and set her glass on the couch. "Take off your jacket and stay awhile."
"You should lock your door."
"I lose my keys alot. Sometimes I forget to leave the window open."
Mac took his jacket off, folded it and laid it on the couch. Maria moved and knocked her glass over. Mac picked up his jacket to late. Maria went into the kitchen and came back with a glass a little more full than the last. "I have to be more careful. This is it. No more." She cleared a spot on the table and placed her glass on it and laid down on the couch, her feet aginst Mac's leg. "Sorry about your jacket. How bad did I get it?"
"Pretty bad. Not to bad," Mac said and laughed.
"What do you do?"
"What you mean?"
"What do you do for a living?"
"I'm a cab driver, your cab driver."
"You don't seem like one. Drink up. I'll be right back."
Mac learned quite a bit about the best designed kitchen knife in the history of the world while he wondered how long he should sit around pretending to drink vodka. Maria appeared from the hall bottomless, hid behind the chair and peeked over the top. Mac smiled and waved. She ran down the hall. He followed her. She ran out of road and knelt against a door. She turned her back to him, turned her head. "Who are you?" She asked.
"You know who I am."
"What's your name?"
"You know my name. Mac if you forgot. I don't know your's."
"Maria," she said stood up walked past him, laid on the couch, placed both hands over her crotch and smiled. "Do you like what you see?"
"Very much. Very much. About the best thing I've ever seen."
"No lie?"
"Swear to God."
No bullshit, he thought.
