Well, it is the 29th of March, and today, I bring the final prepared chapter of The Modern Day Casanova. This chapter has Larry exploring the back rooms of Lefty's bar, finding out what is to be found in those areas. As of this time, I am currently working on figuring out the next chapter, but it should be up before we get too far in the year. For now, enjoy this chapter.
|General LSL Disclaimer|
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.
The Modern Day Casanova
|First Chapter||Let's Meet The Man|
|Chapter 2||Lost Wages|
|Previous Chapter||Newbie at the Bar Scene|
Chapter 4: Bathrooms and Back Rooms
There are many types of bathrooms in the world. Each one can tell you things about the business, and the patrons of that bathroom. For instance, if the bathroom has chandeliers, and people providing towels for people as they wash their hands, that is a bathroom in a ritzy place. If they also have someone to assist you in the process of going to the bathroom, so you don't have to touch yourself, that is a creepy ritzy place.
If the bathroom in question requires a key to enter, and looks rather posh, then you are in an executive washroom. (Of course, if you are reading this, I don't think you qualify as executive washroom material, but given the current trend, I may be wrong.) Those washrooms are also said to have private showers in them, but I digress.
If the bathroom is pink, well that is most likely a ladies room, and if you are a man reading this, YOU BETTER BE IN THERE WITH YOUR MOTHER, (AND AGAIN, WHY ARE YOU STILL READING THIS.) Of course, you could be a lady reading this, and if this is the case, Larry you like your info sent to... (I knew I shouldn’t have left him proofread this chapter.)
Now if the bathroom in question is blue in color, has stalls and urinals, and possible reading material by the toilets, then you are in your typical men's room, the age old safe haven for men to do their business mostly left alone. It is bad form to interrupt, or talk to a man doing his business, unless they are in distress. The level of the men's room is usual defined by the reading material.
If a men's room is devoid of reading material, it means you better not be taking a dump. The owner wants you to get done and spend more money. This is actually typical of most men's rooms. They are merely a convenience for the staff, and sometimes the customers.
Now, if the men's room does have reading material, it says one of two different things. In the reading material is of the kind that many men claim 'they buy them for the articles', rest assured that those bathrooms serve as a legal alternative for those out on the road a lot, and need to release some ... tension. (You can stop sniggering now, since we both knew what I meant, and if you are sitting there scratching your head wondering what I mean, how naïve are you?). If the reading material is an honest to God newspaper, or similar publication, then it is a place that understands that their patrons are human beings, that need to relieve themselves from time to time.
It is that last type of men's room that served as Lefty's men's room. And ladies room. As Larry entered it, he found the room devoid of life. It was in a state of cleanliness that reflected an establishment like Lefty's. (Usually in need of a GI cleaning on a weekly basis.) The fact that no one was in there, thus meaning that the woman had been lying, was quickly forgotten by Larry as an unmistakable urge hit him.
Larry ran for the toilet as the urge hit him. He had left home in such a hurry that the sight of the toilet awakened that natural urge. He quickly dropped his pants, and sat down.
Now, I am sure you all don't want to know what thoughts were going through Larry's mind while he was sitting on the toilet. The fact is that as Larry did his business, he read the paper. You see, men read while on the toilet so they don't contemplate the deeper questions of the universe. Many of the great discoveries have been discovered in a bathroom. Fortunately, if it were not for newspapers in bathrooms, we might have to deal with many brilliant ideas that are stemmed from the size of one's John Thomas.
When Larry finally finished his business, with a potent smell, and a loud sploosh, he got up and surveyed his work. (Men do this as one of those weird possible 'Call Guinness' moments. It‘s a guy thing.) He thought for a moment about doing the right thing, and flushing the toilet, but decided against that. You see, it was one of those old toilets, the ones that could require jiggling the handle. There is still some debate if that actually does anything. Ironically, just the week prior, Lefty had to call in for specialists when the bathroom inexplicably filled with water right after a flush was heard.
Larry did the only thing one should do, however, after using the toilet; wash his hands. This is wise to do, no matter if you are patron or provider. It is sanitary, and one never knows what one might find when washing one‘s hands.
As it turned out, washing his hands wasn‘t just wise, but profitable. While Larry washed his hands, he looked down at the sink, and noticed something shiny in the filthy sink. It looked like it was just in the drain, and had miraculously not gone down the drain. (This should note how much the sink was in need of a cleaning.) Larry then did the only thing that made sense to him. He reached into sink, and into the drain. He pulled it free, and marveled at his find, for it was a genuine diamond ring. What was the odds that he would find a valuable ring in the grimy sink of Lefty‘s bathroom.
Now, Larry was actually unaware of a visitor to Lefty‘s before his arrival. The man wasn‘t unknown for going to Lefty‘s. In fact, he was seen there about once a week. He would order one of Lefty‘s top shelf drinks, one for a quick shot, and the rest to fill up his hipflask, and then head to the bathroom. The man would never use the bathroom, having heard of the misfortune of one person who didn‘t jiggle the handle the right way, and would put something in the sink. To date, the man has done this for more than a year, for no known reason (well, no known legal reason).
Enjoying his find, Larry turned to leave the bathroom, pausing after he noticed the wall of the bathroom. As any patron of a men‘s room knows, the bathroom wall is the precursor to Facebook, or one of its adult variants. Looking over a men‘s room wall, one will find somewhat crude drawings, dirty limericks, as well as whom to call for a good time. (Before you even ask, yes, Jenny‘s name was on the wall, but it isn‘t the same Jenny. That Jenny has never been to Lost Wages, and never will be. Typhoid Va-Jay-Jay has apparently asked for a hit on her from one of her lucky patrons.)
Like any man, Larry went through all the postings on the bathroom wall, noting all the dirt that was stated about people. In truth, only a fraction of it was genuine, and most of it was just filed away in the memory for when someone needed a private chuckle. In fact, there was another purpose for all those different things on the wall. They hid the most important, and easily overlooked item on the wall. A small message that had tons of meaning. It read “The password is ‘Ken sent me‘.”
Now, there has been speculation on who Ken is. I can assure you that it isn‘t the guy at the bar. That‘s just coincidence. I can also assure you that it wasn‘t the former owner of a computer game company, as he‘s never been to Lost Wages. There have been stories that one educator turned programmer had been spotted in Lost Wages, but to my knowledge, he hasn‘t ever been in Lefty‘s, nor had he ever gone by the name Ken. That being said, a password of that kind isn‘t meant for something on the up and up.
Larry, while not being wise to the real world, was familiar with the portrayal of history from movies. A password was usually the way to enter a backroom of sorts. Usually in those backrooms, there were illegal casinos, which seemed unlikely in Lost Wages, or hookers. For a brief moment, Larry‘s polyester pants got tight as the meaning hit him. It could be the answer to achieving his primary goal for this trip. Of course, he would need to be able to afford things after that. If anything, he knew hookers weren‘t cheap, even though most hookers were often called cheap. (Of course, hookers are cheap when compared to escorts, not that you or I know this from first hand knowledge, or at least I don‘t that from first hand knowledge.)
Larry quickly left the bathroom, and went back into the main part of Lefty‘s. He quickly surveyed the room, forgetting about the woman at the bar, as well as all the other patrons. He went over to the other door in the place, the naugahyde door. Such a door has never been associated with a place of high class, or high morale fiber. It was the perfect door for the need of a password.
He went over to the door, and did what any person does when facing a door like that, armed with a password. He looked around, like a person afraid of being watched, acting as if he was doing something forbidden, and knocked. In truth, he wasn‘t doing something illegal at the moment, but since almost everyone was on the take in Lost Wages, it was a moot point to look around like you were up to something. It was a given fact.
Soon, a hatch on the door opened, and two beady eyes looked out. They looked around for a moment, before locking on to Larry. It was the kind of look that would judge anyone dressed out of the ordinary as someone not to be trusted, and the polyester leisure suit was definitely giving off that vibe, especially if one didn‘t look like John Travolta. With as much contempt and distrust it could muster, which was A LOT, the voice uttered the same three words uttered by door guards everywhere. “What‘s da password?”
To Larry‘s credit, he didn‘t flinch…much. He almost leapt back, but he knew he would never live it down if he jumped backwards into the bar patrons there. He took a moment, composed himself, and then leaned towards the door, while saying under his breath, “Ken sent me.” In Larry‘s mind, he felt like a suave, secret agent on a daring mission.
What he had actually looked like was a pathetic loser trying to look like a man of mystery. It was the kind of look that would make real spies roll their eyes, and the man behind the door rolled his own eyes, assured that the loser talking to him wasn‘t one of the few honest cops left in Lost Wages. He opened the door, and returned to his usual post at the base of the stairs in that back room. Larry took the open door as his cue to enter the back room, letting the naugahyde door close behind him.
Now, it has been often overlooked about the plight of the little naugas. So many of those mysterious creatures have been killed so their hides can be used to make things like that door. This door has been overlooked, however, due to the joint effort done by Lefty, and the pimp operating in the back room. You see, the duo have a unique thing that offers them some immunity to groups like PeTA. Lefty‘s has a moose head on the one wall, and it is a real one. On the other side of the wall is the rest of the moose, and the pimp, in addition to his own ‘business‘, tends to the back end of the moose. The moose is completely alright with this.
The moose wasn‘t something Larry took notice to, which shows how focused he was on getting laid, or how oblivious he was to the world around him. Larry kept his eyes on the pimp as he entered the back room. This was due to the pimp dressed in the way that everyone expects a pimp to dress: in a gaudy colored suit that just screams ‘I have a pantload of money, and no taste at all (also known as Pimp Fashion 101). This pimp, however, had all the right in the world to proclaim that, given who is hooker was, not that Larry knew who she was.
As Larry neared the pimp, and the stairs up by proxy, the pimp blocked the way, which was easy given his robust size. Larry stepped back for a moment, as the pimp pointed at him and said, “Listen, fool. I know you aren‘t a cop, but if you are hopin‘ to have a good time up there, it‘s gonna cost you tree hundred.” To punctuate his demand, the pimp cracked his knuckles.
Now Larry knew he didn‘t have that much on him. He supposed he could leave, and come back later, but if he did pay to go up, he wouldn‘t be surprised if the pimp would charge him to go up a second time even if he didn‘t do anything. (Which the pimp not only would have, but also upped the price.) Larry needed to find a way to distract the pimp.
He glanced around the room, and noticed something. No doubt, the pimp needed something to past the time between Johns. The fact that he saw the television sitting in the room, not on, made Larry wonder if the Pimp deemed it too much work to turn it on. He then remember the remote he had gotten off the drunk. He pulled it out, and pointed it right at the television. With the push of a button, the television came to life.
Once it was on, Larry noticed that whatever channel it had been on, it was currently airing one of the many soap operas on at that time of day, which is not on the recommended watch list for pimps, or men in general. Larry decided to start changing the channel, clicking past an ad for Hotel 7 (you know, that chain where they leave the back porch light on for you), a documentary about one of the various native tribes in the world, (one that was apparently introduced to stuff like Mai Tais), and paused momentarily in horror on that PBS show featuring the sweater clad burgundy dinosaur that looks high on drugs.
Larry quickly clicked off that, and ended up on LCSN (Lewd College Sports Network), which had been airing the Miniature Female Mud Wrestlers 500-kilometer Cross-Country Nude Bicycle Race. Larry didn‘t know it was the first time the event was aired, but had he kept it on, he might have seen the mishap that resulted in the disqualification of half the participants, and many complaints from the FCC leading to the shut down of the network. It did, to Larry‘s awareness, cause the pimp to raise an eyebrow.
The next click made Larry stop and drool. He had managed to turn on PornProdCorp’s channel. The then foundling company had just started airing its network, and they had chosen an all day marathon of the movie that featured EVERY SINGLE DEPRAVED act imaginable. It is not even spoken of by name, for fear of the blood loss caused by instant excitement. In fact, Larry would have stayed standing there, drooling, had the pimp not pushed him way, shouting “OUTTA DA WAY DUDE!!!”
Larry shook his head after he had been pushed out of the way, the spell of the movie broken. He glanced at the pimp again, noticing the pimp had pushed down his glasses, and keeping his eyes unnaturally wide. Larry had a feeling that pimp would not care if the world was ending as long as he could watch that movie. Larry tempted fate, and started heading up the steps. Little did he know that he was heading up to the place where Typhoid Va-Jay-Jay worked.
|Next Chapter||The Realm of Typhoid Va-Jay-Jay|
|Chapter 6||The American Institution|
|Chapter 7||The Slightly Safer Street of Lost Wages|
|Chapter 8||The First Conquest|
|Library Page||RichGenX's Library - The Modern Day Casanova|
|Current Cost of Fourth Walls Shattered: $10000||(If there are any concerns, please contact me, and please be polite)|