Читать книгу Manhattan Voyagers - Thomas Boone's Quealy - Страница 16

Rudy Kowalick, 51, the accountant for the Bull & Bear Tavern, always wore a green eyeshade on the job. It was his routine to leave his basement office and make the rounds several times during each shift to check up on the bartenders and servers to make sure they weren’t stealing from Hilda. Rudy was born with a salty tongue, sharp elbows, and a nasty disposition. As a result, he wasn’t on good terms with any of the other 77 employees who worked there. Customers also disliked Rudy and would often murmur obscenities under their breaths as he passed their barstools and tables.

Rudy took pleasure in berating the bar staff for their many shortcomings: the tardy submissions of timesheets, their overfriendliness with customers, the foot-tapping, lowbrow music they played too loud on the bar’s stereo speakers, for their paltry tax withholdings on tip incomes, their unsightly tattoos and weird haircuts, for their bad choices in choosing significant others, for their poor work ethic and lack of ambition, and for their general unprofessionalism on the job.

So much combativeness in a single individual was all the more unusual when you consider that Rudy is a midget and stands a mere 3’5” tall on the days he wears the boots with the lifts in them. On most days, he wears ordinary loafers and is only 3’4” tall.

Tuck looked up from his conversation with Jimmy Donovan as Rudy paused by their stools to berate Ashley for being too chatty with a sloppy drunk. The well-dressed customer in question, an acclaimed economist, happened to be starting on his third drink of the evening, however, in Rudy’s book, any customer who had more than two drinks per day was, ipso facto, a sloppy drunk.

“Rudy,” Tuck called to him, “I expect you’ve heard by now about what happened to poor Jimmy here.”

Jimmy’s head was downcast and he seemed to be on the verge of crying into his beer.

The accountant smiled malevolently. “I heard Jimmy got shit-canned by his firm; that he was forcibly removed from the building by six guards, his tail dangling between his legs, babbling like a baby, weak-kneed, tears gushing down his cheeks, his bowels all in an uproar, and crying loudly for his mommy.”

“Ahem, eh, well, yeah, I guess that about covers it.”

“Hee! Hee! Hee! I only wish I had been there. I’d have taken pictures and posted them here in the bar so everyone could have a good fucking laugh.”

Jimmy made a move towards the midget but Tuck restrained him. “Eh, Rudy, do you have any words of advice for Jimmy as to possible employment opportunities he might pursue?”

“Yes, Tuck, as a matter of fact, I do.”

“Really?”

“Hold on a sec.” He ducked under the bar and dragged out a stepstool. When Rudy climbed up on it and stood on his tip-toes, he and Jimmy, who was still sitting down, were nose-to-nose.”

“I’ve got one excellent piece of advice for you, Jimmy, I urge you to make your own.”

“And what’s that?”

“If I were you, Jimmy, I’d go home and practice flipping hamburgers for my job interview at McDonald’s. I hear the competition is fierce these days because so many brokers and traders are out of work. And since you didn’t attend Flip Burger U, you’re at a big disadvantage.” He cackled loudly, jumped down from the stepstool and continued on his way.

“Don’t pay any attention to that little ball-buster,” Tuck said, “if there was any justice in the world, somebody would’ve killed Rudy years ago.”

Jimmy looked more despondent than ever.

Rudy stopped next to speak with the Bar Manager who was busy stacking pint glasses fresh out of the dishwasher.

Arnie pretended not to see him. Bartenders frequently didn’t see Rudy since he was much shorter than the height of the bar.

“Listen to me, Arnie, I’m a fair person so I’m giving you fair warning. At my recommendation, Hilda is going to be installing surveillance cameras over every cash register. There’s been entirely too much thievery by the bar staff lately, the situation amounts to highway robbery.”

“My bartenders are as honest as the day is long, Rudy, I hand-picked each of them to work here.”

“That’s hardly a sterling recommendation, Arnie, coming, as it does, from yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your bartenders have sticky fingers, Arnie, and they either learned it from you, or else you’re too stupid to see the stealing going on under your nose. Whichever way it is; it’s still your damn fault.”

“Je vais te tuer si je mets la main sur vous!” Arnie reached over the bar to throttle the accountant but he’d already moved out of harm’s way.

“And I’m going to recommend to Hilda that we dock your pay for any future cash gone missing from the tills, even if it’s not stolen during your shift.”

Arnie grabbed an empty liquor bottle to throw at him but Eddie rose up from his usual barstool and snatched it out of his grasp.

“And there’ll be no more freeloading in here by your barfly buddies either. The cameras will count every beer pulled at the taps and automatically match them up with the bar receipts.”

“You’ve gone too far!” Arnie screamed, “you’re dead meat!”

“Don’t waste your breath,” Eddie said, “the runt bastard’s not worth it.”

Rudy scampered along the bar until he arrived at where Carl was sitting and climbed up on the barstool next to him.

“Hello, Carl, got any hot stock tips for me?”

Carl didn’t acknowledge his presence and continued reading the newspaper.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Ok, here’s a red hot tip, Rudy, sell your Lehman Brothers stock; it’s going to go bankrupt.”

“Lehman filed bankruptcy five years ago.”

“Oh, yeah, huh, I must’ve missed it.”

“Very funny, Carl, but I wouldn’t quit my day job if I was you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

His small eyes glowed conspiratorially in the low light. “Especially since your day job is so highly lucrative.”

“I do all right, Rudy, I can’t complain.”

He edged closer. “And so illegal too.”

Carl put the paper down.

“You know, Carl, being a midget has many disadvantages. For instance, you have to buy your clothes in the Children’s Departments of stores, which is mortifying for an adult man.”

“Yeah, I can see how it would be.”

“And you can’t drive a car or go out on dates with normal women.”

“No.”

“At restaurants you have to sit in booster seats like a toddler.”

“I’d hate that.”

“In crowds people can’t see you so they walk on you. You end up with bruises all over your body.”

“Hmm.”

“The worst part, though, Carl, is the snickering that goes on behind your back.”

“Uh-huh.”

“People think you can’t hear their snide jokes concerning the size of your pecker or the capacity of your bladder, but you can hear them loud and clear.”

“Right.”

Rudy adjusted his eyeshade. “I have a theory that we midgets develop a sharper sense of hearing as a result of all those tasteless jokes.”

“Hmm.”

“I expect to be coming into a great deal of money soon, Carl. Maybe I’ll fund a medical research project at the Mayo Clinic to prove my theory.”

“That would be real generous of you.”

“I’m not a whiner, Carl, but as I said, it’s not easy being a midget.”

“I believe you.” He signaled Ashley for another gin and tonic.

Rudy sighed melodramatically. “It is a cross, however, that God has given me to bear in life.”

Carl guffawed. “You’re full of shit; you’re an atheist!”

The midget laughed. “I had you going there for a minute, Carl, admit it.”

He nodded. “Yeah, you did.”

“But getting serious again, Carl, there is one major advantage to being a midget.”

“Oh, what is it?”

“It’s that people often don’t know you’re nearby because they can’t see you due to an obstruction like a big chair or a grandfather’s clock.”

“Hmm.”

“The old axiom – out of sight, out of mind – is true.”

“What are you getting at, Rudy?”

A muscle in his cheek twitched. “When people believe they’re alone, Carl, they say all kinds of shit they’d never dare say if they realized they were being overheard.”

“Hmm.”

“You’d be amazed at some of the scandalous conversations I’ve overheard in the Bull & Bear; it’d blow your mind.”

“I bet it would.”

He lowered his voice. “A midget with a bit of larceny in his heart might get the idea that there’s money to be made from these conversations.”

“Yeah, he might.”

“And if he was an enterprising kind of fellow … and also happened to purchase a sensitive, top-of-the-line, miniature digital recorder that could be secreted just about anywhere in this place without being noticed … he could end up with some very incriminating blackmail material.”

“I see.”

“Take for instance that time a couple of weeks ago when you and certain people reserved the private dining room in the vault to have a dinner meeting.”

“I remember.”

“The walls had ears, Carl, they heard everything that was said.”

“Hmm.”

“As I view it, I’m sitting in the catbird seat now.”

“It seems so; don’t it?”

Rudy gloated as though he was playing in a high-stakes poker game and had just been dealt a royal flush. “Then again, Carl, you’re an expert at recordings; aren’t you?”

His drink arrived and he took a healthy swig.

“And you’re also skilled at breaking into the offices of hedge funds and investment banks in the middle of the night, searching for confidential memos on impending deals.”

“What do you want, Rudy?”

“I want to jump on the gravy train, Carl, the same as you and the others at SKG.”

“Hmm.”

“I suggest that your people and my people set up a meeting.”

His glass stopped mid-way to his lips. “You got people?”

Rudy cackled again, turning a few heads in their direction. “No, but I’ve always wanted to say that line because actors always use it in the movies.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, Carl, it’s only me. I don’t share with nobody.”

He nodded. “That’s good to know.”

“When can we all get together for a discussion of our mutual interests?”

“Eh, I’ve got to make a call.”

“Of course, Carl, by all means talk to your employers.” Rudy slid off the barstool and landed on his tiny feet with a soft thud. “But make it snappy. The price goes up if you make me wait too long.” Then he walked away.

After a few minutes, Carl put a napkin over his glass and left the barroom. The bar’s TV monitors proclaimed :

THE FUTURE WILL BE BETTER TOMORROW!

In his haste to make a call, he didn’t see the message.

*