Teaching Presence Hurts Too

What in the hell was that all about?

Okay, so in return for teaching Johnny how to be tougher, Johnny had to teach Joe Barclay about how to, you know, make people notice you and make people realize just how cool you are. Except it doesn’t really work that way with Barclay…

Right, so it was off to hit the bars with Barclay. Has there ever been a worse wingman? Other than sad, weepy, emo-nerds that is. Fucker looks like death-warmed over, won’t take off those sunglasses and knit-cap and socially is more like a rabid bull in a fine china shop. Johnny got banned, fucking banned from the Hurricane in H.B. because Barclay decided to pick a fight with the bartender *and* the bouncer. At the same time. All because of a girl or a drink. Or a girl and a drink. Johnny isn’t sure and Barclay wouldn’t say. Damn it.

Johnny even tried to teach Barclay the “Mystery” pick-artist shit in case maybe Barclay’s mind works that way. Told ‘im it was bullshit, which it ain’t, but if you ain’t got the hoodoo voodoo in your cock like Johnny does, it does work.

So anyway, the first night we head to Sharkeez. Hot hangout for college kids and those just out of college, working their first jobs. Great place to meet young impressionable chicks that are easily manipulated out of their panties with a few drinks and some flash of big cash. Dude, Barclay struck out harder than Casey at the bat. So Johnny shows him how it’s done. Cute little blonde with graduation present tits that she could rest her own chin on. A few giggles from her, some Bacardi mojitos for her, next thing you know, Johnny is banging her in the bathroom while some fuckwad frat boy is banging on the door. Might have been her boyfriend or something, maybe. Gave her the Kiss at the right moment and wow, she nearly killed herself, went stiff as Johnny’s cock then totally, totally limp. Very nearly cracked her skull open on the toilet.

Anyway, broke the boyfriend’s nose and convinced the bouncer it was all good in the hood and so the dude was kicked out, Johnny stayed. You’d think with that kind of big-boobed motivation Barclay might come out of his shell a bit. Nah. Kept spooking the coeds, so Johnny figured it was time to bail out before Johnny’s rep took too big a hit, you know?

Next night was the Yardhouse. Older crowd, drinking microbrews and cocktails ‘cause unlike the Sharkeez crowd, they actually have their own money from their real jobs. Set Barclay up good a few times. And nothing. He just didn’t get it. He was so stuck in his furry Gangrel mind he just didn’t get the idea of being The Man. Of just being able to attract someone with a confident aura, no cheap Mystery tricks like I.O.I.s or kenos or sets or anything, just pure raw sexuality. Or charisma. Or power.

It took a few more nights. A few more bar fights. Yeah, like the one that got us both banned from Hurricane’s. For at least the next year, that’s one bar Johnny isn’t allowed to go into, all because Barclay got into a fight and Johnny stepped into it. Well, actually, Johnny is pretty sure he could, you know, sweet talk his way into the joint, but there’s plenty of other places to go. It’s just aggravating, you know?

Finally at The Ship in Santa Ana he finally got it, just when Johnny was about to give up for a week or three. He went up to some cougar at the bar, some chick from England with enough money to buy off her wrinkles and starts talking to her. And somehow Barclay just seemed to exude raw animal sexuality, which makes sense given his clan. And she went from just tolerating this weird dude that looked like a mountain man survivalist strung out on heroin to taking him to the back parking lot and her SUV. Barclay said it was an SUV anyway when he came back. She looked tore up. The bartender asked if she was okay and she just smiled. You know that smile, the one you give when you just got your brains fucked out? Yeah, that one. The bartender just gave Barclay a look and shrugged.

So yeah, when Barclay sat back down at the table, he slid a pink Victoria’s Secret thong across the table. Number one, it was fuckin’ soaked. Number two, it had the chick’s phone number on it. He asked if he passed. Johnny just smiled and said “Oh yeah!”