Chapter 9/ Rocco's and Tequila

CHAPTER NINE

Rocco’s and Tequila

Thursday mornings at Starbucks, Stacy is generally a no show these days.  That’s because Wednesday night is ladies night at Roccos’; a Mexican eatery in the same plaza as Starbucks.  Generally, on a Thursday Stacy is recuperating from Wednesday.  She is usually sick in bed on Thursday morning and will manage to make it to Starbucks only much later in the morning, after our crew has disbursed.

Stacy is an extremist.  She does and experiences things to the extreme. She works out hard core at the gym.  Pumps weights, runs, works out on various aerobic machines until she looks like she is ready to faint. She surfs and paddle surfs in the Atlantic throughout the year. She’ll go on extreme sports vacations and has done some mountain climbing as well. She also parties hard.

When Stacy is sick, it is the worst. No one has it like she has it. She has allergies. No one suffers from the allergies like Stacy does. She suffers from chronic stomach pain and headaches, but she deals with. And we all know when she is dealing with her pain.  It is, according to Stacy, a testament of how strong she is.  Or maybe it is her own special form of hypochondria.

Stacy has become a regular at Rocco’s on Wednesday night.  There is an outdoor bar at Rocco’s that fills up by 7 pm.  And, many of the locals have migrated there from Blue Martini.   Additionally, there are several office buildings and a Marriot hotel that is walking distance to the restaurant that customers feed from.

Rocco’s is known for their margaritas and vast selection of tequila. Stacy is quite fond of tequila; whether in a margarita or straight up.  And, on any given Wednesday, Stacy is known to put away a half bottle or more of tequila herself.   Now that she has the big Kahana at her side, she does not have to worry about an escort home. That was not the case earlier in the year. Several times the local Boca Raton police would drive Stacy home, leaving her car at the Starbucks plaza. 

Last night Stacy was at Rocco’s as usual.  Wednesday nights for me is usually softball night so I don’t get a chance often to see Stacy in action at Rocco’s.  But my game was called for rain earlier in the day.  At around 6:30 I texted Stacy and simply stated: “Rocco?”   Her reply was quick, “of course, where else would I be?.

I pulled into the plaza around 7 o’clock. It was raining so I used the valet in front to park my car.  I hate using valet service to park my car.  It’s easy when you arrive, but a pain when you leave.  When I am ready to leave someplace, I want to get into my car and go. I often don’t have the patience to wait for the valet.  So, sometimes, weather permitting I will search 15 minutes or more for a parking spot to self-park rather than valet.  Tonight though, there was a light rain and I was lazy so I just pulled up in front.

Rocco’s was crowded and the outdoor bar was under cover, so the light rain did not dampen any spirits.   The bar, both indoors and out, has Mexican style furnishings and dark wood. The crowd was fashionable and casually dressed.  A lot of 30 and over aged women were doing a girl’s night out. Guys there seemed mostly professional types, also over 30.  The crowd was a little more laid back than you’d see at Blue Marini. 

Stacy had a corner of the bar already staked out when I got there.   The dark wooden bar was filled with more than a dozen people occupying stools and others standing two back. Bowls of tortilla chips spread across the bar at strategic locations.  Several dozen other patrons occupied the high-top tables surrounding the bar.

Stacy already had at least two margaritas by the time I arrived.  She had her own special margarita version that the bartender knew how to make.  It was strong, because it had an extra shot of tequila in it.  Stacy had her own bowl of tortilla chips and a bowl of salsa in front of her.

Stacy loves her tequila. My wife and I have gone out with Stacy and Kahana to a movie, or a show and Stacy carries a water bottle filed with tequila, just for personal consumption. Kahana is a big guy, but he generally does not drink more than a single beer.  He is the permanent designated driver for Stacy.  Stacy, on the other hand, can handle more alcohol than most men twice her size. But when it hits her, the alcohol it hits her hard, and Stacy is known to have passed out on a bar table or in the street.  Kahana has, during their brief courtship, carried Stacy over his shoulder into her home.

Jackie, Alfred, Kahana, Stacy, me and my wife all went to see Jo Koy at perform at the Improv Comedy Club in West Palm Beach. By the time Stacy showed, she had finished off half her water bottle (a 20 minute drive to the club from Boca Raton and 5 minutes to park).  Then there is the two drink minimum at the show. Before Jo Koy took the stage, Stacy’s speech had already begun to slur.  She had made “friends” with the people at the next table.  When Jo Koy took the stage, she was the “crazy red head” making all the noise in the back.  Within 30 minutes of Jo Koy’s performance the house lights went on and a nice young man escorted Stacy out.  Kahana apologized to us and took Stacy home.  Stacy joked about it for weeks. She got thrown out of the Improv!.

We all went to a movie one Friday evening; Stacy, Kahana, Jackie and Alfred, my wife and I. In the back of the movie theatre Stacy sat with her water bottle. By the time the movie was over, she could barely remember the name of the film.  She does party hard.

For some reason Stacy always complains the next day or so after a few hard party nights that her stomach hurts.  I had read an article about pancreatitis, and suggested Stacy should get herself looked at for it. She told me her girlfriend was her doctor and would have told her if she thought she had anything like that. Stacy instead believes that it is her appendix acting up. And, any moment she will need emergency care.  Stacy’s illness, her pain, and other symptoms won’t keep her from drinking whether Wednesday night at Rocco’s or any other night.

Stacy was holding court at Rocco’s. She was entertaining the bartender, and the other patrons. Many of whom she knew.  As engaging and friendly Stacy can be in the morning to the passerby’s at Starbucks, with a good buzz on she is the center of attention. She is talking louder as the evening progressed. By the time the evening is over, Stacy will know most of the people at the bar, their names, what they do for a living and they will know Stacy.  They will know what she has done in her life, and what she is currently doing. And they will have been introduced briefly to Kahana as he sits and stands a few feet from her.

“Let’s get this party started!” Stacy yells out with her drink in one hand and her cigarette in the other. The bartender offers the ladies a free pour of tequila to keep them all going.  The music is getting loud from the outdoor speakers and the night and party is in full bloom. Stacy has her cell phone and takes a picture of herself and Kahana and another person. She immediately uploads it to Facebook so all can see where she is.

Other than Stacy, Kahana and I there are no others from our Starbucks crew there until Solomon strolled by.  Solomon’s townhouse is a short walk to the bar. Solomon takes turns with Dorrie as to who can escape for a few hours from their young kids.  Solomon orders a margarita and we chat about the people he is saving in court these days.  Both of us spend our time watching Stacy, as she is the entertainment for the evening.

Stacy has already had several margaritas, several shots of tequila, its about 8 pm and I am only there for an hour!  I won't stay passed 9. And by that time Stacy is sure to be completely shitfaced.

Stacy touches a lot when she is drunk. She pushes people. They are friendly shoves.  She will be engaged in conversation and say “ You’re kidding!” followed by a shove. Or she'll say “That is so funny”, followed by a light punch in the arm.  It is a conversation that has both words and hand gestures.   I sat in a theatre next to Stacy one time and my arm was sore afterwards from the amount of time she hit me during the performance.

Stacy has started to annoy some of the female guests with her dual vocal and hand gestures. Some have turned their backs to her, almost in mid conversation.  Others start to create distance, letting people cut in front to get to the bar.  They create separation, that way the conversation takes a pause.

Others, single guys or guys there without their wives, are more amused by Stacy. They have a higher level of patience with her.  It seems like when guys are at a bar, with a few drinks in them, we start to think with our second brain. The penis takes on a life of its own and creates the patience to talk to an otherwise annoying person.   That is the only reason anyone would be spending time talking to this crazy loud redhead. The second brain has taken over.

I spend another 20 minutes chatting with Kahana, making small talk about sports as we people watch. I am just about done with the show. In fact, the more drunk Stacy gets, the more I try to distance myself from her.  I give it the “I don’t really know her” look.

Kahana continues watching over to make sure no one takes advantage of his girl.  This night, a carbon copy of every Wednesday night for months, except I won’t be there on most nights.