Pauley's Tavern and Pool Hall

Daydreams to cope with sometimes take on lives of their own....

al·le·go·ryˈ (aləˌgôrē) noun

plural noun: allegories

   "A story, poem, or picture that can be interpreted to reveal a hidden meaning, typically a moral or political one."

   “An Allegory is a form of extended metaphor in which objects, persons and actions in a narrative, are equated with meanings that lie outside the narrative itself.

The underlining meaning has moral, social, religious or political significance of abstract ideas as charity, greed and envy.

Thus an allegory is a story with two meanings, a literal meaning and a symbolic meaning.”

   Yes, I looked it the f*ck up and with that you know what is needed to be known to understand what the Pauley’s Tavern and Pool Hall book series is about.

  Oh I should add that the censor is pretty much off most of the time. PG this story is not. PG13 neither. R yes; but beyond that?

Shhh....

Now some background info on the place ”The R*tards" go to play.

(Pauley’s term of endearment for his patrons that don’t act their age, especially when sh*tfaced.

Think about what "r*tarded" means, then how it's used in every day language to be an insulting description.

Just like calling a child a "b*stard", some words should be questioned as too f*cked up to use like they're whatever.

"Wh***" is another one with an edge, and yes these words among others will be questioned, but you as readers decide the fate of these words as they apply to your personal vocabularies.)

   Pauley’s Tavern and Pool Hall is a sort of 'speak-easy' name for The Iron Horseshoe Tavern established back in 1974 by Paul "Pauley" Kelly.

It’s called this to keep what are now known as 'hipster' invaders away, and its whereabouts only known by word of mouth.

Is it elitist?

Perhaps.

Or it is about self preservation and preventing as long as possible, their haven from being taken over by those that do not honor tradition, nor would uphold Pauley's Code of Conduct.

  New folks are welcome, as long as they can respect the School House Rules and don't complain when Lucy gets unplugged; otherwise foos are getting their a*ses expelled!

   Over the years The Tavern has become a home away from home club house for old timers and mostly blue collar roughneck man children with its latest motley generation currently in their 30’s, give or take.

Some married with children or divorced with visitation on the weekends.

They have bills to pay, money to save, jobs to not f*ck up in order to do both.

Occasionally these a*sholes may brawl and Pauley’s shotgun Grace taken out to dance, with Jukebox Lucy playing the soundtrack; but overall the place is mellow on a weekday afternoon.

   The crowd that made The Tavern its watering hole is loyal and there is a sense of kinship between the boozer drunks.

Stories this tavern has no lack of thanks to the antics of the patrons, which also include my own.

   I wrote myself in as a character using my real name because all this stemmed from a daydream I had, to keep me company while I went for long walks with detours, in my new town of residence;

Boyle Heights, California.

   Though home for me will always be my beloved

East Los Angeles, Califas

   One day I thought of a man that didn’t exist to help me move on and let go of the past, by focusing on the existing hope of the present and lessons learned.

  Perhaps it was my way to prepare myself mentally for the future because I don't have much to my name other than my imagination.

 “Mikey, Jacob, Bobby, Joe, Paul, Davey, Alex, Dennis and Lou”

   Names of made up men that are a close knit pack of pals I will never forget.

They all represent an aspect of the men I have known, both in the good and bad; but they are human, even if fictional.

They are part of the details to the symposium full of zanies.

   This story experiment at times is a sort of open love letter to men that have shown their integrity even as they also try to get things right.

These men are strong but also weak.

Happy but still stressed.

Hopeful but discouraged at times with what they feel is out of their control.

It’s a mix we all endure, but with them; I feel how unequal men still are when it comes to expressing their feelings on it all.

How do I know?

I'm a daughter of one that expressed them regardless.

   The women in this saga also are shown going through their own life roller coasters and attaining their triumphs for they too are strong and capable.

It’s just with them, the way their stories are told is different.

How different?

The goal is to show we could use a little bit of understanding from the fellas.

With their stories, I hope to tell men that not all of us are their enemies or psychos, that more often than not, there was an issue with communicating and emotions go on edge.

We can be worthy of trusting and also respecting.

I hope to tell, we can have our bad days too, even if our hairstyles look nice; and we don't always know what the f*ck we're doing either.

We do know we could be wrong also.

No really.

Women are capable of knowing they can be wrong. Getting us to admit it, now that's something else.

*cough*

I want to show the men I was able to reach through to, women can be their friends as well, and shoulder part of the old burdens that say a man must bare these alone.

Even as women, we can relate and be more than arm candy hood ornaments, "Honey can you bring me a beer?".

  But this is to reassure the males that are willing to read, they'll have a place in what is usually considered female terrain.

  Yes this is a quirky soap opera Spanglish novela, for a subculture of those that bought in to what a friend called:

"The Rockabilly Retirement Plan for Punks, Skins and Goths".

And what was surprising, the guys did get in to it as much as the gals. I mean, how can I write an open love letter to men, if I don't include what matters to and interests them?

  From the serious like Erectile Dysfunction or even the car not starting and being already late for work.

To the "Are you f*cking serious!?!" and the latter said in two manners.

One with enthusiastic glee like they scored, and the other in BOHICA despair.

Espeakin' of which....

This is a bedtime story dedicated most of all to Our Troops and 'Docs' green side or civilian; for I do know the power of a reality break, if not reading oneself asleep.

And this because I want to "Play It Forward" and yes I do mean play.

  The man I would spend countless silent moments, wondering about his happiness and safety; he was the life lesson I needed to get me out of a bad place; even as I felt helpless knowing which bad place he was headed back to.

This Army Coptor Doctor ridding one of Anansi's spiderweb threads, tied to the foot of a Dragonfly Dustoff back in Stan; reminded me why being able to control your focus, makes dealing with difficult things, easier to cope with.

The chaos will still be there, it's how you allow it to affect you, that makes a very important difference.

You either learn how to hold on and fight or you don't. That "don't" had been my concern for him.

There was a reason his story began to stand out to me.

"Yet for me that also came from the desert, compassion I also knew how to show...."

  Eyes like his and lack of smile, you don't forget.

He had the face of many that aren't returning all that well; but his face comforted me when it would look silly; but haunted when it was a stoic with unintended, resigned grace.

  So this allegory that aims to be a cult classic, does have its soul, as that odd daydream of mine, found a life of its own.

And it became a Shoretale Fable of Therapy in Motion and thinking up the answers that become the solutions.

It's all just rhyming for the reasons, that carry us through the seasons of change.

Suggestion: Look up Grandiose, Ostentatious, Pretentious, Narcissistic, Delusional, Self Absorbed Motor Mouth, but most of all Ironic Catharsis. Thank you.

Back To The Top Where It Starts

Copyright ©2017 Rev. Mother L. G. Flores. All Rights Reserved.

Heaven Please Bless All That is "Pauley's...." and May No Harm Come To This Therapy In Motion, Adult After School Special, What Happens Cuando Nos Ponemos Las Pilas, Mark In Miles Stones, for This Dreamer and Music Maker Shake, Rattle n' Roll!

Amen.

"Siempre Fiel En Lagrimas Y Sangre"

Mikey's H*rny Sandwich

cartoon comic dagwood sandwich.gif

Press Play To Listen To N*kromantix "H*rny In A Hearse" For The Soundtrack

  We’re listening to Pandora online and Sneaker P*mps came on with “6 Underground”. I look over and Michael is out. I look around my room. This song is reminding me of the times I was in the back room over at Sinamatic. Is that club even around still?

  I’m remembering the teasing done onstage to those tied to the rack. The music variety was limited then. I remember a lot of Portishead was played besides this group.  I close my eyes and I feel a tingle in my neck that made me shake my head abruptly. Whoa. Should I wake him?

  Thinking about it….

  Thinking about it….

  I thought about it.

  Maybe I shouldn’t.

  I take a deep breath…. I am careful about getting out of bed to put my blue scarf over the desk lamp.

“Whacha doin’ Bullets?”

“Oh you’re awake.”

“What time is it?”

  I look at the time on my clock radio. "12:24am."

  By then the song changes. It’s Portishead, that’s funny. The song is “Wandering Stars” Michael yawns & gets out of my bed and goes to hit the head. He steps out and walks to the kitchen. I’m wondering if it’s registered to him that I want to be frisky.

  I got to the restroom, to brush my teeth and gargle. He’s at the fridge, he shouts out to me “Hey Bullets do you still have the peppered mayo?” I spit out the mouthwash. “Top shelf, to the left, in the basket towards the back.”

“Oh I see it.”

  I begin to freshen up, including my make-up. I pull my hair out of the bun I had it in, untwist it; flip it over shake and then flip it back….

“Bullets do you have any more Gulden’s?”

  I answer from the bathroom as I’m quickly trying to style my hair. “There’s no more?”

“Nope.”

“Check the first cupboard, second shelf on the left.” Michael goes to look for it; he finds a new bottle

“Awesome! Oooh, garlic stuffed olives! Gonna want those.” He says to himself.

  He splits a bolillo roll and places it in the toaster oven to crisp up a bit on the baking sheet along with four slices of precooked bacon. Now the song is “The Truth” by Handsome Boy Modeling School. Michael slices the Roma tomatoes thinly and puts them a side. He chops the garlic stuffed olives and puts them to the side also. He slices Monterey jack cheese next and that too to the side they go.

  The bolillo roll has a light toast; he takes it out burning his fingers a bit and starts to assemble his sandwich. The song changes to Gorillaz “Every Planet We Reach Is Dead”. He spreads the peppered mayo from Kraft, then the Gulden’s brown mustard on the bread. He next piles on the oven roasted turkey shaved slices, the tomatoes, the olives, the bacon and then the cheese.

  He squishes it all down. He goes back to the fridge to see what there is to drink. There’s cranberry juice, lemon ice tea and milk that he can mix with either Chocolate Malt Olvatine or Strawberry Quick. He goes for the Strawberry Quick.

  I sneak in to my bedroom to change in to my blue with white lace flowers, French cut p*nties and matching padded br*, I slip on my kimono robe next. He’s mixing it up the milk and Strawberry Quick powder and I’m standing at the door to the kitchen all posed and pretty in my opened kimono. He turns around holding his plate and glass of strawberry flavored milk in his hands.

“Aw Bullets you couldn’t tell me before I made my sandwich!?!”

  I drop my head.

“Fine eat your sandwich.”

  I take the scarf off the desk lamp and change the station on Pandora to the Koffin Kats and the first song that comes up is “H*rny In A Hearse” by N*kromantix. Mikey bites in to his sammie after he sits at the table. With a mouthful, “You do look h*t though.”

“Thanks, I’m going to change.”

“NO! Don’t change, just wait ‘til after I’m done eating!”

”I’m not feeling it anymore”

  With a mouthful again “Baby c’mon, you went through all the trouble to look h*t, I even got a h*rdon.”

  I look at him with an expression of you got to be f*cking kidding.

“You have a h*rdon while eating?”

“Yeah, come look.”

  I lean over and sure as sh*t he’s p*tching a tent in his jammer bottoms.

“See?”

“I see.”

  He gulps from his strawberry milk and I see him stuffing his sandwich in his mouth like he’s rushing to eat it.

“Mikey you’ll get heartburn if you eat too fast.”

Still with his mouth full “Yeah, but you got me h*rny now.”

“You’re gonna throw up too.”

Mouth full, “No I won’t.”

“I don’t want to risk it. We’ll just do it in the morning. You should take some Pepcid since I can smell the garlic from here.”

“So we’re not going to have s*x?”

“Eat your sammish.”

Press Play To listen To The Misfits "All Hell Breaks Loose" For The Soundtrack

“I can finish it later.”

“You still have to wait awhile for it to settle down.”

“Fiiiine.”

  He doesn’t look too happy… Oooh! Misfits just came on “All Hell Breaks Loose”.

  Mikey looks at his sandwich. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

“UGH! Okay I won’t change, but you better brush your teeth, especially your tongue and gargle, THEN CHEW GUM!!!”

  That made him happy. He starts eating his heartburn on a plate again and gulps down more of his strawberry milk.

“Hey Bullets can you mix me up more Quick please?”

  I’m not annoyed, it’s more like patient but somewhat annoyed. I stand up from my chair and away from my laptop with his glass, and then he says, “Can you take your robe off too?”

“F*cking Mikey!”

“What? You’re the one that got all s*xy so we can f*ck.”

“I didn’t want to f*ck. I wanted us to be more like slow and stuff.”

Talking again with food in his mouth “You want us to be slow?”

“Don’t you?”

  My back was turned to him while I was mixing the strawberry powder in to another glass of milk when I fell his hands r*bbing my a*s cheeks, then I feel his er*ction pr*ssed up against them. I turn around

“Here’s your milk, finish your sandwich.”

“Will you take your robe off if I do?”

"Do you want me to s*t on your l*p or across from you with my legs crossed?"

"Would you occasionally uncross and recross your legs slowly?"

"Would you be able to focus on eating your sandwich?"

"Probably not, but it's a good sandwich. I'll just eat faster."

"I could already imagine you burping on me Mikey. Ew!"

"I'm not going to burp on you when I e*t you next! Jeesh."

"Did you know in Mexican slang a chick's cr*tch is also called a t*rta."

"I can see calling it a sandwich."

"As long as it's not compared to a French Dip."

  He had to think about it, then got the joke and laughs. I wonder how many that don't know their iconic sandwiches missed it. Now I'm thinking condiments and dipping.

"Mikey I got to ask. With that flavor fest of a garlicky sandwich, strawberry milk, then bushing your teeth and tongue with spearmint, and then chewing gum, which thinking about it, all I got is cinnamon Big Red; and you said I taste like butterscotch; isn't that an overload for your taste buds? It already feels like an overload for mine kissing you."

"Well, I would say midnight munchies aren't leaving my taste buds bored. Uhm, can you sit down now and cross your legs then uncross them slowly, please?"

*sits....crosses legs....uncrosses....recrosses slowly*

"Thank you."

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Copyright ©2018 By Rev. Mother L.G. Flores. All Rights Reserved.

Heaven Please Bless All That is "Pauley's...." and May No Harm Come To This Therapy In Motion, Adult After School Special, What Happens Cuando Nos Ponemos Las Pilas, Mark In Miles Stones, for This Dreamer and Music Maker Shake, Rattle n' Roll!

Amen.

"Siempre Fiel En Sangre y Lagrimas"