The Modern Day Casanova Chapter 3 (A Leisure Suit Larry fic)

Well, it is the 25th of March, and today, I bring the third chapter of The Modern Day Casanova. The third chapter brings Larry to his first trip to a bar, as well as the perils that an experienced bar fly will spot, and even exploit. This series stands out a little, as most of what I am doing in this is from memory. This is one of the few fics I'm doing that is on the fly, so to speak. I hope you enjoy this third chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Leisure Suit Larry, or any of the characters from the franchise. I do not fully know how everyone relates to one another, and this work is complete fiction. I am not making any profit on this publication, and do this mainly out of a love for the games. Also, the fourth wall will get demolished, and it's repair cost will be all on you.

It is no secret that Larry was out of his element when he arrived in Lost Wages. The place he was dropped of at was probably in the seediest neighborhood he'd ever been in, and he sold computer software door to door in rough areas. (Of course, that was so his coworkers didn't have to deal with him, and those rough areas were actually the decent areas of their respective cities.) Never the less, Larry kept his nerve, and studied the bar's front.

The bar was called Lefty’s, and was one of those places that was built into a building that didn’t look like it would be a bar on the outside. One would even think it had been renovated that way on purpose, since that style was the norm since prohibition. (If you don’t know what prohibition was, it was basically a time when a bunch of idiots said, “Let’s ban alcohol since it is the root of all evil” and they did, allowing organized crime to flourish.) The interior would also give that impression, but the actual truth is that Lefty’s was established in the seventies.

Of course, since Larry hadn’t gotten inside at this point, he wouldn’t know about the interior yet. He was still marveling at the sight of the building, taking note that the top floor looked to have some sort of rooms, with only one being occupied. He even saw a fire escape on the right side of the building. Larry had learned prior to coming to Lost Wages that the fire escape was the preferred method for swinging singles to make a fast get away in case of being caught, (or in Larry’s case, so she can getaway from him before he can enter the bedroom).

Ironically, while Larry was scoping out the bar, another one of Lost Wages’s denizens made their way up to him. It was actually quite easy to miss this one, until they encountered a person. You see, this was the little black dog known as Brutus. You see, some time ago, Brutus ended up on the receiving end of a guy who had taken a wonder drug. Sadly for Brutus, as well as the guy, the drug had been one of those to help get someone ‘in the mood’. This event left Brutus so traumatized that he took it out on every man he found. That was until Brutus was taken in by his current mistress, and only returning to the streets of Lost Wages when she was in town.

Today, Brutus saw fit to relieve himself on Larry Laffer. The little black dog continued over to the new man in town, while then man was distracted, and marked his territory. This was the kind of thing most people in Lost Wages avoided, since Brutus, since the day of his traumatization, was blessed with an unusually strong smelling urine. It would fade in time, which if one was lucky was in about a year or so, but most people in Lost Wages wouldn‘t notice it now.

As it was, after Larry shook his leg, hoping to dry it off, he entered one of those places where only a wise ass would notice if a dog relieved itself on someone‘s leg. Lefty‘s was a place where the regulars not only knew the menu, but also when someone fell victim to the dog. Many of the patrons, almost all men, had a mug of beer in front of them. One of them, a man with a bushy mustache took a moment to pause in his conversation, and loudly asked, “Whose been pretending to be a tree again?” This question was answered with a loud roaring guffaw that came from the teller. Everyone else was quiet, since they were all watching Larry.

Larry didn‘t notice them at first, since he noticed the one lone woman at the bar. She was dressed in a lovely pink dress, whose neckline plunged so low, one could tell she wasn‘t wearing a bra. In Larry‘s mind, this was a good reason to walk up to her, and speak to her. This just proved how inexperienced Larry was in the dating world.

You see, the lady in question was actually the sister of the bad joke teller. At least one night a week, she came to Lefty‘s in the rare hope that some sort of desirable man would come in the bar. To date, she had been batting a thousand in spotting complete losers at the bar. In fact, that had been her track record where ever she went with her brother in tow. Of course, she didn‘t tell people the man was her brother, or even her date. She had a fool proof lie in place, even though a smart guy could see through it if they checked it out.

As Larry approached her with his trademarked pick-up line “Hey baby, I‘m Larry, Larry Laffer.”, (not that anyone else would use such a lame line), he continued with one of the other cliché pick up lines that all men try to use. “Does heaven know they are missing an angel?”

What Larry didn’t know was that the lady in question has heard that pick up line at least ten times in the past week. If Larry had looked a lot better, and even a lot younger, her response might have been a bit different. Her response now was the most curt form of her lie. “Beat it creep, or I’ll have my boyfriend deal with you when he gets back from the bathroom.” Thus, Larry left her alone, and went to the only open stool at the bar.

This action led to two responses. The first was that the man who sat at the bar next to the lady turned to talk to Larry. This man the type of bar patron who saw fit to talk to whomever was next to him at the bar. He was also the kind of guy that thought he was funny, but never seemed to tell the right joke, or even punch line. He also was the kind of man who never took a hint, and kept talking as Larry did his best to ignore the man. One thing Larry did note, however, was that the man looked a lot like the CEO of a major software development company, but this man’s name escaped him at that moment. (Rumor has it that the man‘s name was William, or at least part of it might be.)

The other response he got was that the owner of the bar, as well as the bartender, Lefty, came over. Lefty was like any bartender, and tended to all patrons equally. He, of course, wouldn’t keep them from doing something obscenely foolish, but he would restrict their drinking if they got too drunk. Lefty also knew a new patron when he saw one, especially since all the regulars were at the bar right now. When it came to a new patron, he would list off all that he offered automatically. “Hello buddy. What would you like? We got Beer, Light Beer, Wine, Champagne, Whiskey, or would you like to by a round?”

At the mention of buying a round, every patron perked up. Someone buying a round was something every barfly waited for, especially if it was someone who didn’t know better. You see, when a regular wants to buy a round, it is because they are celebrating, and you don’t abuse a friend. When a newbie comes in and buys a round, it is at their own risk. This was because this was the time that everyone would buy from the top shelf, the sacred high value booze.

Larry was actually aware of this tactic since he saw it happen one time when the company he worked for had a company party. (He was only at it because he was part of the company.) He had seen someone buy a round, and literally maxed out his credit cards. Larry didn’t have any valid credit cards on him, and only had the cash he had left from the cab ride. Right now, buying a round was out of the question. “One beer,” was all he ordered. This disappointed the regulars, but Lefty secretly saluted the wisdom of new guy. He then rushed to get the beer together.

Unfortunately for Larry, this also allowed Larry to witness one of Lefty’s draw backs. Lefty had a bad habit of not wearing a belt, and wearing pants that were a bit big for him. This meant that every time Lefty ran around to fetch drinks, his pants dropped, allowing all patrons a quick view of his butt. This had the added side effect of having someone down their first drink, which Larry did when it was delivered.

With one drink under his belt, Larry decided another might be needed, and ordered a Whiskey. This time, Larry had to fight the urge to down the drink in one gulp. It was tempting when Lefty’s pants slid down again, but one does not slam down whiskey in one shot. Whiskey is a hard, bitter liquor, and those unaccustomed to drinking it go into coughing fits when trying to do that. It was a sure fire way to look unattractive to others, and Larry had the common sense not to do that. (Besides, he didn’t need any help looking unattractive. He had that covered, even though he wasn’t aware of it.)

He did, however, have a plan. Since the lady had mentioned her boyfriend was in the bathroom, Larry hoped to head the man off with the drink, hoping it would be enough to floor the guy. Whiskey was a strong drink, or at least he thought that. With that thought in mind, he made his way to the back, where the restroom had to be.

Sure enough, Larry entered the back of Lefty's and found a clutter filled hallway with a bathroom door on the right side. It looked like it was an unisex bathroom, and he figured it was in use. This was because a man was sitting on the floor, near the bathroom door.

There was actually another reason a man would be sitting there, of course. This man was one of the foolish that Lefty took pity on. The man had foolishly ordered a round of drinks for everyone there. It literally broke him, and Lefty left him stay there, at least for the time being. A few of the regulars who even caused the man's financial dilemma even bought the guy a drink.

So as Larry moved towards the bathroom door, the drunk raised his head up, as if detecting Larry’s presence. It was enough to make Larry stop, especially as the man asked with an obvious slur in his voice. “Hey shunnny, how’s `bout you an’ me having a little drink?” Larry felt sorry for the man, and in a moment of pity, like many other of Lefty’s patrons, gave the man the glass of whiskey, thwarting his own plans.

Now this man was a special kind of drunk. He was so drunk, that he reached that state where drunks did amazing things. It is the kind of state that allows drunks to walk away from horrible accidents without a scratch. They are the ones who are actually fluent in a language they never spoke when sober. They are also the ones who can break out into the song ‘How dry I am’, even if they never remember hearing it before.

It is also this kind of drunk that can down a shot glass of whiskey without batting an eye. One must be seriously drunk, or a long time whiskey drinker to do that. Most first timer’s try this, and end up throwing up the whiskey, never to touch it again. This is especially true with the brand of whiskey Lefty kept on stock. It was the most bitter whiskey in the world. Yet, this drunk downed it in a gulp.

It was accompanied by a sound of satisfaction, and the drunk happily thanked Larry for the drink. In fact, he was so happy he had a reward for Larry. “That hit the spot, shunny. Let me give you my most valuable possesshun.” (That last word took about five hics to get out.) The man then pulled out of one of his pocket a remote control. It wasn’t just any remote control though. It was on of those universal remotes that would work on any television without programming it (usually only found in the seriously Beyond section of Bed, Bath and Beyond.). Larry wasn’t sure why it was so valuable, but he took it anyhow. There may be a use for it some time soon. With that, Larry then ventured into one of the most dangerous areas of Lefty’s bar (or any bar for that matter): The restroom.