“You’re seriously going to join those two clowns in the corner? Take it from me, princess, if you want to waste your time on something, cocaine is much more interesting.”
She turned around and as she drew from her cigarette with one eye closed she sized him up. “You mean to say that I should stay with you because you’re so interesting?”
Red swivelled his chair back around, turning his back to her and tapped his hand on the stool next to him. “I know rocks more interesting than those guys.” He took a cigarette for himself and once more used the candle to light it.
She hesitated for a second but after a glance over her shoulder at the two guys heavily discussing with each other, she took him up on his offer. “Sure, why not. I’ll have a Martini Fiero.”
He ordered her drink and turned towards her. She was probably 5 to 10 years younger than him. With his cigarette in between his fingers he grabbed one of her dreads sticking out of her cap. “Too lazy to properly take care of your hair?”
She smiled and responded calmly. “Shouldn’t you be home with the wife, playing house?”
He grinned. “The wife is working the streets and I left the kid in the car. Don’t worry, I rolled the window down just a little. But with all these responsibilities I still find the time to wash my hair.”
“I should have stuck with the cocaine it seems.”
“You would be bouncing of the walls like you wouldn’t believe, little girl.”
“I’m not so little,” she smirked. “So what is it you do in life?”
He picked up his beer and took a gulp as he looked at her from the corner of his eye. “I run a small crew of tough guys who go around the city breaking into student’s houses and stealing the expensive shit their mommies and daddies buy them. I also have an escort service selling eastern-European women to sad men who want something only paid love can get you. On top of that I own 50 percent of the kebab shops in Leuven.”
“Huh. How quaint. You just described someone very close to me, only, he’s not spending his time in bars at night making up stories to impress young girls.” Red was suddenly very intrigued but had no intention of showing that to her.
“I hardy think a gangster like that would have a hippie friend like you though. He’d slap some sense into you, believe you me,” he tried to play down her comment, as if he didn’t believe her.
“Oh he tried alright. Once I moved out there wasn’t much left for him to do though.”
“From the looks of you and your friends I’m guessing you’re either a psychology student or a political science student.”
She shrugged and tapped some ashes into the ashtray. “Does it really matter? I hardly think you care about what my interests are.”
“Oh so we’ve got a cynic here. You think your beauty stands in the way of you meeting guys who actually look beyond your cute face and care about your dreams and hopes?”
“Don’t make me out to be a narcissistic bitch. This has nothing to do with what I think about myself, this has everything to do with your dick doing all the talking.”
“So to sum it up, all men are sexist pigs and players? Don’t tell me you’re a dyke or even worse, a feminist?”
“I think I’ve heard about all I needed to hear. Thank you very much for the drink and the smoke, mister…?”
“Carter, Red Carter. Pleasure was all mine. You know where to find me when you figure out your impotent buddies over there won’t satisfy you.”
“Fuck you very much.”
In the corner of De Blauwe Kater three young hippies sat discussing the merits of bio-fuel subsidies while an absent-minded Red Carter looked for something in his pockets.