Rico’s Big Show

Long ago and far away...

‘What always sells, Rico?’

‘You don’t, Ray. That’s why yuh always get fired from those big-shot salesman jobs. You’re all talk, no action. You’re talk, talk, talk and nobody believes you. You’re so full of it that the whites a your eyes are turnin’ brown!’

‘C’mon, Rico. What sells?’

‘I know what smells! Your dumb ideas.’

Ray started laughing,

‘Rico, you’re killing me!’

‘If it was legal, I woulda done it a long time ago.’

Rico realised Ray must’ve had an angle when he laughed instead of replied with a wisecrack insult. What did that punk-and-a-half want from him now?

Ray’s short-lasting salesman experiences had taught him to never argue with a stupid man. If there’s a difficult obstacle, don’t waste your time going over it like the Marines do, go around it…like he and the other wise guys did in Army Basic Combat Training when their Drill Sergeant wasn’t looking…Go to the next step.many

‘Sex! Sex always sells!’

‘Yuh gonna put on a drag queen dress and be a hooker for the drunken sailors, Raylene? Not in Rico’s American Restaurant and Pizzeria! It ain’t no joint, it’s got class!’

Had anyone else said that to Ray, he would’ve knocked them into the middle of next week.

‘Rico, what does the Navy base do that no other Navy base except San Diego does?’

Ray kept on coming…like a torpedo…Rico couldn’t figure out his angle. He took his eyes off Ray to look at the other Down-and-Outers who hung around his place like a bad smell. Joey looked like teacher’s pet in school who was dying to answer the question. Rico may have been cruel, crass, and greedy, but he liked Joey and always wanted to give him a chance to shine. For when Joey shone, everyone basked in his happiness.

‘Joey! You’re in the Navy Reserves! I’ll get my answer from the guy who knows! What does this Navy base do that no other Navy base except San Diego does?’

‘Boot camp!’

‘Joey’s right, Rico. Every week a new series of boots graduates on Fridays, but they don’t get their orders until Monday, so they have All-Ashore Leave for the weekend. Most of them spend it here because it’s closer, cheaper, and less dangerous than Chicago.’

‘So? I gotta lotta those new sailors eat here.’

‘So, besides them, every week you’ll get a new audience who’ll be seeing Rico’s Cabaret for the first time!’

‘Whaddayuh talkin’ about, Ray? I drive a Buick, not a Cabaret sports car!’

Stash expertly concealed his God give me strength expression,

‘Cabaret is a fancy word for entertainment held in a nightclub or restaurant where the audience eats or drinks at tables. You don’t have a nightclub with booze, you’ve got a restaurant and you can make everyone buy a dinner to see the show. You’ve got an entertainment license, but you never used it again after that bonehead magician you hired turned into a tragedian who made all your customers disappear in his tragic show.’

Rico furiously recalled,

‘He was awful! I’ll never have any more entertainment! But I had no choice; that jerk was my deadbeat brother-in-law!’

Rico’s pet name for his wife was ‘Hitler’.

He began to mellow,

‘At least he gave my kids his cute white bunny rabbit; they love her…’

‘I like rabbits!’, beamed Joey.

‘Well Rico, now’s your chance to finally get your money’s worth out of that entertainment license!’

Rico’s eyes widened and he nodded; he always respected Stash’s fairness and knowledge. Without him and Joey, he would have thrown Ray out on the street a long time ago, but where Ray went, so did his stooges. Rico could never figure out what a wise guy like Ray had that he hadn’t…

Peter told Katrina that the real reason Rico hated Ray was because Rico wished he had charisma and disciples…Katrina responded that Ray looked like, and was, fun to be around; Rico wasn’t. When you were around Ray, things happened…small things…but fun things…Katrina also said the true reason Rico liked Joey was because he was the only person Rico was confident that he was smarter than…

‘This is a definite case of Queasy bony-o!’ added Joey, ‘Everyone benefits!’

Rico wore a profound expression, as if Moses the Lawgiver himself had spoken. Ray fought to keep a straight face as Rico was the only person in the world to believe that Joey was a legal genius.

‘Rico’s Cabaret…’, he smiled, as anything with his name sounded fascinating, especially something new and fancy…He came back to shouting, ‘What show? Ray as a drag queen?’

‘Your majesty!’, Joey cracked, as he and Stash bowed to Ray.

‘I’ll crown you punks later! I’ll show you at 5:30 tomorrow night!’

* * *

The road to the 5:30 meeting was long in coming on a winding road of twisting turns…and it was all about Angie…

Angie, who had recently become a paid full-time day waitress at Rico’s, had two pleasurable activities in her life. One was joining the other Down-and-Outers, Katrina, and Peter to go to a dinner special and bargain-night double feature together. She was fascinated by the exotic dances that were a staple part of intriguing adventures with one-word titles of the exotic locale it took place in, Arabian Nights, Foreign Legion, and cheesy science-fiction movies where the Moon or Venus was run by irritable women with overdone make-up. The other was spending time at the YWCA; swimming in the heated pool as well as taking other classes. Her YWCA girlfriends convinced her to do a belly-dance course with them for laughs. She recalled the dance scenes in the movies she loved and signed up…

When Ray found out about it, he asked Angie’s friends if she was any good; the girls said she was tremendous.

‘How’d you like to earn some money from your course at the ‘Y’?’

‘What course, Ray?’

‘Your belly-dancing course. I’ve been to a dive in Chicago that had a belly-dancer, and she made a lot of money. I heard you’re pretty good.’

‘What if I am? I’m never gonna do it in public…I gotta rep-yuh-tay-shun!’

‘They put ten-dollar bills in your belt when you dance...’

Like Daffy Duck, Angie was extremely fascinated by making money…

‘Where am I gonna dance?’

‘Rico’s!’

‘Why Rico’s?...I’ll admit Rico’s is a safe place...’

‘All these sailors have been without women or good Italian food for a couple months. On Saturday night you do your stuff, and just like the dancer in Chicago you go from table to table, and the gobs put greenbacks in your belt. You know what they say about sailors on shore leave blowing their money…’

‘Yeah, but…’

‘No one will know who you are because no one will recognise you. We’ll tie something over your mouth.’

‘You’re not gagging me, Ray!’

‘He means a yasmak, Angie’, Stash clarified.

‘A hashmark?’, asked Joey.

‘A yasmak is a veil that women wear in the Arab world.’

‘Oh yeah! A veil! That’s a great idea! I gotta opaque scarf and I can get my hands on a wig and a little pillbox hat. No one will see my face!’

Ray kept it to himself that no man ever looked at a belly-dancer’s face…

Her excitement changed to wariness.

‘What’s in it for you, Ray?’

‘I’m your agent, so I get ten per cent.’

‘Sneak-rat agent zero-zero-nothing! Whaddayuh gonna do tah earn 10% of my money?’

‘I’ll get you publicity, and me and my boys will act as bouncers if things get rough.’

‘You? A bouncer? You’re not much of a lover and you’re sure not a fighter! That’s why you’re a National Guard retard instead of a keen Marine like my brother.’

‘Dean’s a Marine because the judge gave him a choice of five-to-ten in the pen or four in the Corps.’

‘Maybe so, but I’m proud of him.’

‘So are we, Angie. Man, did he look sharp in his dress blues! Uncle Sam’s sure proud of him too.’

Ray promised her brother he’d look after Angie. He knew that if he didn’t, Dean would swim the Pacific with a K-Bar knife between his teeth to pound Ray into the ground like a piledriver, for the Marines had given him muscles, martial-arts expertise, and the guts to use it. Angie always believed that if her brother hung around with Ray and his gang instead of the older hoods that led him into a life of crime he never would have got into trouble.

‘What’s Rico say?’

‘I’ll ask him today; if he says yes, we can meet him at 5:30 tomorrow night.’

* * *

It was a weekly tradition that after a few months in boot camp, the new sailors went ashore in their small city for a big weekend. As Ray said, they were starved for pizza and great Italian food after a few months of healthy eating with no snacks and Rico’s was a traditional first port of call.

The next thing was looking for women, but there weren’t enough in town to go around, and some of the local hoods played vicious criminal tricks on the naïve navy men.

Angie brought in her portable record player and a few records she picked up cheaply from second-hand shops donated by other ladies who had tried, then tired of dancing.

After watching Angie’s demonstration, Rico enthusiastically agreed with Ray that Rico’s Cabaret would be the most talked about event of the sailor’s first shore leave; and word would spread for others to follow in their footsteps...they may not have scored a real date, but they’d have a sea story that would grow in the telling…

There would be one show, at ten p.m. on Saturday night; the gang would clean up the restaurant after it closed and get a free Sunday lunch; with one thrown in for Joey’s mother.

‘The big thing is no one’s gonna know my name or who I am.’

‘Sure, Angie…We’ll bill you as Fatima.’

‘Don’t call me “fat”!’

Stash leapt in before the surprised Ray could answer.

‘OK. We’ll call you Patina…Patina of Quality!’

Everyone agreed that name had class.

‘Rico, What’s the number one rule of business?’

‘Never give a sucker an even break, Ray!’

‘No, what keeps people coming back again and again? Give them something, but always promise more than you deliver. Over to you, Stash!’

To everyone’s surprise, Stash was a creative choreographer genius, probably because he had seen a lot of dancing in B-movies and Chicago burlesque shows. He designed her Dance of the Seven Veils, that prolonged Angie’s dance and the excitement as she took them off one by one; she would hand them to the gang for reuse. Rico asked the going price of scarves at second-hand shops, as they would make great souvenirs for the teenagers who just graduated to manhood after boot camp. They agreed on giving out one scarf/veil…to come out of Ray’s cut.

It was no wonder Stash hated the civil service, as he was a brilliant artist looking for a chance to express himself. He also designed a pair of lurid sandwich-board advertising signs that he and Joey painted. The pair would wear them when they walked around downtown when the fleet came in. Angie admitted her agent fee was going for something, but she and Rico insisted on her agent’s fee being split equally between Ray, Stash and Joey. Angie would keep half the first week’s agent’s fee for herself, due to her expenses of designing her ‘souped-up bikini’ costume.

* * *

Rico’s always did great business on Friday night. Saturday petered off a bit late in the evening, then it picked up on Sunday for the last night before the return to base, as sharing a pizza was about all the sailors had money left for. Sunday afternoon were family lunches; many of the new seamen had their families stay in town for the weekend to see their graduation on Friday, and Rico’s served up a quality family lunch before they went their own ways.

On Saturday night Rico’s usually emptied after the evening meal, now it was packed; for the first time Rico had to turn customers away. The bantam Rico stood in front of the huge Joey to turn back anyone who was drunk or looked like they’d start trouble. Joey wouldn’t hurt a fly, but he was BIG…

Every table was full to the brim by sailors and curious others with pizzas and pitchers of soft drinks, for Rico’s wasn’t licensed for alcohol. The drinking age in their state was 21, and nearly all the bluejackets were teenagers. Anticipation filled the room like an invisible fog…

Ten p.m. was approaching…Angie was nowhere to be seen. Rico began to worry and gave threatening looks to Ray.

‘Wassamatta Ray? If she punks out there’s gonna be a riot! If there is, I swear to God’, he stabbed his finger repeatedly into Ray’s chest, ‘you’re…goin’…down…first!’

‘She’s scared of nothing! She’ll be here!’

Where the hell was Angie???

Stash snickered,

‘Check out Mata Harriet!’

A femme-fatale secret agent wearing a large broadbrimmed hat, trenchcoat, and dark glasses carrying what looked like an attaché case walked into Rico’s. It took a while to realise it was Angie-in-disguise with her portable record player that she placed on the counter. She had a whispered conversation with Rico as he nodded his head, then she locked herself into the women’s restroom.

In his sharp midnight-blue tuxedo, Ray was in his element as compere and comedian, telling jokes as Angie was taking her time. Rico had to admit he was pretty good.

In addition to the sailors, there were the little ladies of the night who preferred to be called socialites. They queued up to the Ladies Room and kept knocking on the door making visible signs of discomfort that made the sailors laugh more than Ray’s jokes.

‘How long you gonna be in there, honey?’

A bluejacket cracked,

‘She’s got squatter’s rights!’

At last, the door unlocked, and a hand came out and snapped her fingers. Rico took her hat, coat, shoes, and sunglasses. Stash started the pre-arranged musical track of Middle Eastern percussion and oud or guitar; the excitement grew...

The completely veiled Patina of Quality leapt out of the Ladies Room, landing with a loud thump and her hands in the air as Rico’s broke out in ribald cheering.

The waiting women fought each other to get inside the toilet to do their business.

As Ray predicted, and Rico recalled from his own World War II army service, there was howling and whistling as Angie did her stuff.

The exotic percussion beat loud, fast, and wild as she frantically danced one round in the circular area surrounded by the tables…her hips were a lethal weapon that sent the sailors out of her way…Rico and the gang’s mouths hung open…Angie was hot!!! She was illuminated with a red glow, as Stash had covered the lights in her circle with red scarves.

Her first round was fast, like The Girlfriend of the Whirling Dervish. When she came back to where she started, she would remove a veil, give it to Joey, then do another round. Each round became slightly slower, and sensual, with lots of shaking, winking and ‘eye jive’ over her yasmak…

At a certain point in the music she quickly swayed from side to side, then thrust her hips out, that drew howls and whistles. She did it again, then again, then again, then again…the scratched record was repeating itself! Angie’s eyes widened, she snapped her fingers, pointed at Stash, then the record player; Stash quickly put his finger on the arm of the needle that made the music continue as normal. Rico never would’ve understood…She exhaled a sigh of relief that made her yasmak move. As no one knew what her gesture meant, everyone assumed it was an erotic come-on that increased the howls and whistles…

So it went, with things getting more and more into a fever pitch. To start things off, Ray and the gang began putting $10 bills in her belt after the final veil, the sailors followed in monkey-see monkey-do, with one bluejacket putting in a fifty, then taking out $40 in change. Any sailor putting in less than $10 would get angry looks from Angie who’d stop, glare, and rapidly snap her fingers, then the other seamen loudly groaned at their stingy shipmate until he coughed-up.

Things were going fantastically, with Angie’s greed giving her the most exciting looks in her eyes that any woman ever gave…

Then…as they say in Iran…the fit hit the shan…

One of the sailors grabbed her and pulled her into his chair.

Ray shouted,

‘Look, but don’t touch, Popeye!’

Another sailor shoved Ray across the floor and sneered,

‘Shove off, Bluto!’

Angie elbowed her captor in his solar plexus that made him breathlessly bend over; she ran for cover.

‘There ya go, Romeo!’, cracked one of the sailors, that made Rico’s explode in laughter.

Joey ran out to be peacemaker.

‘Look, but don’t touch and please be nice.’

The sailor who grabbed Angie was enraged by being laughed at by his shipmates. He rose and punched Joey in his face. The ladies screamed…

Rico stopped the record player, pulled his baseball bat out and jumped out on the floor from behind the counter…The room stopped into the loudest silence that anyone ever heard…but Joey hadn’t gone down…the sailor who threw the punch immediately changed his expression into one of fright.

Joey’s soft voice gave the deadliest of warnings,

‘You shouldn’t have done that…I’m a sailor too…’

Emboldened by Joey’s soft childish voice and knowing he was being watched by the crowd, the young swab-jockey became cocksure of himself and made the dumbest and deadliest mistake of his life…

‘Here ya go, shipmate!’

The sailor threw another punch…

Joey caught it in his hand…

The look on the loveable Joey’s face changed to one that frightened everyone…The restaurant silently looked on in horror as the sailor continually screamed; his face turned colour as his fist was being crushed. It would’ve cracked like a beer glass if Joey hadn’t suddenly pulled it towards him, ducked down, then rose holding the sailor over his head and spun him round-and-round until he let him go; the sailor flying across the cleared-out circle where Angie danced. He landed on the flat-top USS Table that knocked the pizza and soft drinks down.

‘Let’s go, Navy!’

The bluejackets who had their table knocked over by the now groaning sailor rose as one; then ran towards Joey. Ray and Stash threw football blocks into several of the sailors, but the others kept coming. The sight of the angry Rico swinging his baseball bat kept any other seamen from joining in.

Joey turned to the table behind him.

‘Excuse me, please.’

Joey picked up the table like it was made from Styrofoam and ran toward the no longer charging sailors until he was pinning them against the opposite wall with the table he held. Ray and Stash formed a protective line in front of Joey.

‘Joey!’

Angie ran out to help her fellow Down and Outers; one of the sailors grabbed her…Joey shouted,

‘Repel Boarders!’

Her YWCA swimming gave her a powerful backhand that sent the small sailor across the room!

Another seaman grabbed her…

‘Baby, take me around the world and back!’

The joint howled in laughter.

The sailor’s wish was Angie’s command. She demonstrated that she also studied Judo at the YWCA; instantly quieting the restaurant by loudly SLAMMING the sailor onto the deck.

The Down-and-Outers ran over to Angie and made a circle around her.

‘Watch it!’, Rico shouted. ‘She knows Judo, Karate and six other Japanese words!’

Inside her protective circle, Patina was fired up as she extended the fingers on her hands and waved them around like karate chops,

‘I’ll chop your sueys off!’

The socialites took off their high heeled shoes and joined the circle around Angie wearing expressions of she-devils. They menacingly held their shoes by their toe to use the heels with deadly effect. One of the ladies loudly threatened every sailor,

‘Remember the Alamo!!!’

A shout rang out,

‘Shore patrol!’

All the sailors picked up the fallen tables and debris then sat in their chairs with heavenly choirboy looks on their faces...

Two tough-faced salty senior petty officers wearing SHORE PATROL armbands, white pistol belts, leggings, and batons with their blues swaggered into Rico’s. The young sailors knew that their three red chevrons and hashmarks weren’t the gold ones of petty officers who had good conduct. These salty seadogs were dangerous…their chestfuls of ribbons had battle stars and their faces had battle scars…They resembled former fleet heavyweight boxing champions because they once were…

Rico put the record player back on; Angie began dancing in a circle as the sailors and the gang clapped in time together.

‘Anything wrong, gentlemen?’

They didn’t answer, but the Shore Patrolmen’s eyes went to Rico’s baseball bat.

‘I was just showin’ everyone how I coach my son in Little League. He’s a shortstop.’

‘Yeah? My boy plays second base!’

‘Well, sit down and have some coffee, Baseball Dad! On the house! Take a load off your feet, you guys must need a coffee break!’

‘What’s he doing on the floor?’

The sailor who had been thrown to the deck by Angie sheepishly rose.

‘I was playing the second base; Rico was showing us how his son tagged somebody out.’

‘Somebody got tagged…’

Rico poured two mugs of coffee.

‘On the house, to the Shore Patrol. You guys like cream and sugar?’

‘You’re going to do this every Saturday night, Rico?’

‘Sure, with free coffee to the Shore Patrol!’

‘Free donuts too?’, asked an SP.

‘Sure! Now Madame Patina’s gonna do one last dance!’

Stash restarted the music and placed the needle on another track. Standing behind the seated Shore Patrolmen holding their coffee mugs, Rico glared, held up a $10 bill and began snapping his fingers.

The sailors began putting sawbucks into Angie’s belt again. The Shore Patrolmen turned to look at the snapping Rico who suddenly began dancing himself as he stupidly smiled, waggled his head and snapped his fingers.

The sailor who first grabbed Angie apologised to Joey and shook hands with his left hand. He then went to Angie where he apologised and gave her a $50 bill; his right arm hung limply.

She gave him one of her veils…that set everyone to whistling and cheering…

Ray whispered something in Angie’s ear, she smiled and nodded. Stash and some sailors picked up one of the tablecloths with its contents and carefully put it down out of the way. Ray announced,

‘Now, for our fantastic finale!’

Like Hercules, Joey quickly picked up Angie and swung her through the air to stand on top of the now cleared table. The Navy lustily cheered.

Joey barked in a voice no one had ever heard him use before,

‘Attention on deck!!!’

Everyone, including the socialites, snapped to the position of attention. Angie faced the American flag over Rico’s counter and saluted.

One of the Shore Patrolmen blew his whistle; every sailor turned to Rico’s Stars-and-Stripes and saluted as well.

Angie began to loudly sing,

‘Stand, Navy, out to sea…’

‘Fight! Our Battle Cry!’, boomed the voices of everyone inside Rico’s as they sang Anchors Aweigh.

After completing the first verse, she turned from the colours in a snappy about face that her brother taught her, saluted the sailors and began singing the second verse of Anchor’s Aweigh, for they were her boys...

Every one of Uncle Sam’s Bluejackets believed their Arabian princess was proudly looking at each one of them alone, for Angie had firmly convinced every sailor in his heart that she was his very own sweetheart…

As they all sang together, she replaced the words ‘foreign shores’ with ‘Waukegan’s shores’; then all gave three loud rousing cheers.

‘Orderrr…Arms! Navy…Form up in column of twos! Out the door…march!’, barked Joey.

They proudly swaggered like salty sailors towards Genesee Street, the main drag of the city as Angie, Rico and the gang sang Dick Powell’s The Song of the Marines.

‘Over the sea, let’s go men…’

Rico looked like a kid on Christmas morning; the tables were full of greenback tips.

‘I ain’t’ never seen nothin’ like it…’, gasped a gobsmacked Rico.

Nobody had…

FIN

Author Notes: I am the author of three Extra Dimensional/Ultraterrestial military science fiction novels MERCENARY EXOTIQUE, OPERATION CHUPACABRA and WORK IN OTHER WORLDS FROM YOUR OWN HOME! as well as two travel books THE MAN FROM WAUKEGAN and TWO AUSTRALIANS IN SCOTLAND (all from Lulu.com). I live happily ever after with my wife in paradise (coastal Kiama, NSW Australia).

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