The Serpent's Kiss

86

Ray Moretti wandered out of the Men’s room, bag with the two T-shirts clutched under one arm. When Michael went off to call his mommy, Ray had knocked back the rest of his own beer, then begun on Michael’s. He was pretty much trashed, he knew, and didn’t really give a shit. Ray didn’t much give a shit about anything. Nobody paid Ray much attention. Not his mom or dad with their high-toned careers, not his bitch of a “perfect” sister with her straight As, and her plans for college, all that shit.

Ray could tell Michael was turning out to be just like her, worrying all the time, talking about studying, about the karate class he taught, talking about college, wondering what he wanted to do with his life.

Asshole!

Ray didn’t worry about any of that. Life was short. He watched his parents work all the time, lecturing him on how hard they worked to pay for their big mortgage on their big house, how it was a good thing they worked hard to make good money so Ann could go to Medical School, how he needed to find his direction.

Fuck! He looked at their lives and didn’t think that was such a great thing. Eleven hour work days, long commutes, worrying, worrying, worrying.

They needed to party. Not some three-martini cocktail party, either. Not some Club Med vacation spent talking about work, calling in at the office or checking your e-mail three times a day.

He didn’t want to grow up to be tight-asses like his parents.

All Ray thought about was partying and getting some pussy, and that was just fine by him.

When he stepped out of the bathroom and there was still no Michael, he said, “Fuck it,” ignoring the glance of a guy passing him, and headed for their seats. Michael would find him after he got done talking to his mommy.