CHAPTER ONE
Danny Stevenson walked into the little club on the south shore of Long Island riding high. He had already eaten a “biscuit”, “da boys” slang for a quaalude, during the car ride from Brooklyn. He checked himself out in a shiny metallic panel near the men’s room and he was pleased with what he saw. Mr. Franco had just worked his magic on Danny’s unruly, long brown hair. He had a pair of tan linen pants with a web belt, a gold sweater with brown, maroon and white horizontal stripes. On his feet, were his pride and joy – his real white leather Capezios which he had spent 45 minutes cleaning and polishing.
It was only 11:00 PM and the place was still empty. He went to the bar and got a Budweiser. He took out his pack of Marlboros and fished out his other half of a quaalude which was buried in the bottom of the cigarette box. He swallowed it with a healthy slug of beer and lit a cigarette.
The club was nothing special. It had a small dance floor which accommodated twenty people uncomfortably. In the middle of the club, there was a circular sitting area with three round tables. The tables were small, and each was accompanied by three metallic chairs. The sitting area was surrounded by a wooden beehive railing, three feet high, with a gapped space, so one could enter and exit the enclave. Danny thought that in a previous life this was a place where live bands had performed.
Only one table in the sitting area was occupied. There were three attractive young ladies seated at the table which was furthest from the entrance. Danny moved closer for a better view. The tallest girl was thin with dark brown, curly hair. She could have been a model, but she was not Danny’s type. Even though Danny was six feet two inches tall, he preferred shorter girls. The ringleader of the group was very attractive with beautiful straight brown hair and a perfect face. Danny pegged her as being very self-confident and full of herself. He figured that she would like nothing better than to turn Danny down if he asked her for a dance or to buy her a drink. She was not a good percentage play and Danny did not want to get turned down with his friends all around. He set his sights on a young lady seated the furthest from the entrance with curly light brown hair with pink ribbons and plastic pink framed glasses. She would love to be the one approached of the three and her glasses were not a problem for Danny. She was pretty and looked sweet as sugar. Danny liked what he saw. He liked it a lot.
Danny finished his Bud and started his approach. He had already mapped out in his mind the way he would walk towards her and how he would angle his body. There could be no doubt that she was his first choice. As he neared the table, the ringleader noticed him coming. She turned her head away from him. Danny viewed this as tell-tale sign that he was right. He was at their table with his body unmistakably angled in front of his pink–ribboned princess. “Would you like to dance?” he asked softly but audibly. “Me? Are you talking to me?” She was not faking her uncertainty. He hesitated a split second. “I’m looking into your beautiful green eyes”, he responded not knowing how those words came out of his mouth. He winced and turned away for a second. He thought his comeback was corny and awkward. When he turned back to her, she was smiling, and her