The “Awl” Business

We were a team, like Laurel and Hardy. We were ordinary guys alone, but together we were magic. We were computer consultants, and usually spent a week in one city. If you have to be on the road, it’s good to have a drinking buddy. Mark was the best.

Mark was a big guy; six two, two forty, head like a bull, He never found a suit that liked him. If the width fit his shoulders, the sleeves would hide his hands.

We were at a hospital in Houston. It was Thursday, and by 5:30 we had finished our week’s work. Friday we would head home to Cincinnati. Mark and I went back to the Comfort Inn. We agreed to change into casuals, and meet back in the lobby. My casual was a golf shirt. Mark came down in a denim shirt with big shiny buttons, black jeans, and blond riding boots. There was a country restaurant just a block away, where we could have a few drinks and a steak. We hit the bar while waiting for a table, and ordered frozen Margaritas. Tequila is not a civilized liquor, but add some lime, and lots of ice, and it is a wonder on a hot Houston night.

We each ordered a T-bone, and got a bottle of Barking Owl Australian Chiraz, we picked for the label.

Mark was giving me the latest on his pre-teen daughters. Our waitress came over to top off our coffee. She was petite with short blond hair, barely 20. “So what do you guys do for a living?” Mark grinned. “We’re in awl.” in a fake Texas accent. “We had a fire in a wellhead, and had to call Red Adair to put it out.” Mark could pass for an oil man, with his big build and cowboy shirt.

I wouldn’t even try. “I don’t know much about oil. I just keep track of the money Mark brings in.” Then excess alcohol got hold of my tongue. “We have to fly to Stuttgart tonight. We have some Deutschmarks into yen.”

Mark would not be outdone. “Our jet’s waiting for us now. We have to stop in Newark to clear customs, and we’ll be in Germany by daylight.”

The girl’s eyes got big “You’re going to Newark tonight? My mother lives in Newark and she’s sick. I’ve been saving money to fly up to see her.” She stopped, her cheeks flushing.

“We have to leave soon or we’d offer you a ride.” Mark said.

“I only live ten minutes from here. I could be ready in half an hour. Oh, thank you.” She ran back to the kitchen.

I was sober enough to know we had offered a young woman a ride on our imaginary plane. I walked toward the pay phones on the wall, picked up a phone and talked for a moment, without bothering to dial. Mark watched me, and when the girl came back, her eyes followed Mark’s gaze back to me. I came back to the table, and ignoring the waitress, looked at Mark intently.” Buddy, we have a problem. Our Denver crew boss went missing. We have to get there right now.” Then I turned to the girl. “Oh, you were going to ride with us. I’m sorry. This mess changes our plans completely. Come on Mark.” I pulled out my wallet, found a hundred, handed it to our waitress, and we got out of there.

We made several more trips to Houston. Somehow, we never got back to that restaurant.