Read Online Delicious by Mark Haskell Smith - Free Book Online Page B

and launch a Technicolor yawn all over the table. But he was a grown-up. He maintained.
    He carefully opened the door to his room and crept in. He was hoping the lifeguard was still there; instead, it looked like a grenade had gone off. Not only was there broken glass, apparently a bottle of Barbancourt rum, and splinters fromthe smashed ukulele, but all the dresser drawers had been pulled out and overturned and their contents strewn around in a frenzy of looting. Francis saw that his suitcase had been upended on the bed and then tossed out onto the balcony.
    He walked into the bathroom and noticed that his prescriptions of Xanax and Valium were missing, as well as some extremely expensive vitamins Chad had given him. The vitamins had been custom-mixed by his nutritionist to help him cope with the stress of his job. Had Chad fucked the nutritionist, too?
    Francis saw his carry-on bag sitting in the bathtub, its guts dumped out and rifled through. His digital camera was gone, as well as his cell phone and Palm Pilot. For the first time it occurred to Francis that perhaps the young man was not an actual lifeguard. Good thing he’d stuffed his laptop, a wad of per diem, and a few hits of really good E in the little safe tucked in the closet. At least it wasn’t a total loss.
    Francis was suddenly desperate for a cocktail, so he opened the minibar—miraculously untouched—and searched for some vodka and orange juice. He found something called POG that looked like orange juice, and after reading the ingredients, learned that it contained some orange juice among the papaya and guava, and mixed it with a little bottle of Absolut.
    It tasted pretty good, actually. He washed four Advils down with it, draining it completely, before slumping backward onto the semidemolished bed and cracking his head on the coconut-shell bra that had been hiding in the mess.
    He felt a lump growing on the back of his head. He knew he should put some ice on it but couldn’t find the energy to move. Instead, he felt a certain jolt of satisfaction fill him. Here he was, wasted and fucked, ripped off and robbed, feelinglike death warmed over. It hurt. But he was partying. Getting down and dirty and having fun. All the things Chad said he couldn’t do. That was always the reason Chad gave for his infidelities. Francis was just an old stick-in-the-mud. He didn’t know how to have a good time.
    Francis was determined to prove him wrong. Here he was in Honolulu giving as good as he got. And he was just getting started.
    ...
    Joseph arrived at the office, an immaculately clean yet ramshackle kind of warehouse filled with stacks of equipment, much of it nonfunctional and piling up in the far corners. There was an industrial kitchen with boxes of canned goods stacked on huge tables, all arranged around a massive stove salvaged from the old Canlis restaurant in Waikiki. Joseph found the Teamsters, Joe and Ed, standing around the coffeepot with his uncle. The Teamsters nodded sympathetically while Sid fumed.
    â€œFuckin’ haole motherfucker.”
    Joe picked at his Styrofoam coffee cup while Ed looked at his feet and shrugged. “He’s paying full freight.”
    Sid shot Joe a murderous look. “All de times I fix you pineapple fried rice —”
    â€œWhat the fuck you want me to do, tell the membership they can’t take the job?”
    â€œYes.”
    Ed cleared his throat and tried to reason with Sid.
    â€œOur people are starvin’. They’re livin’ on food stamps, for chrissakes. What do you think they’re gonna say if theyfind out we turned down a fat job like this? You gotta be reasonable, Sid.”
    Sid didn’t feel like being reasonable. “Dey’re gonna eat haole food. Mainland food. It’s gonna kill ’em. Why fo’ you wanna poison everybody?”
    Ed and Joe shrugged. “You’re the best. We know that. That’s not the issue.”
    â€œWot’s