The Club

Lots of people think that Mike is hopeless, a disaster, the worst thing that ever happened to them. I personally think he just gets bored easily. Every few years, he gets to this point where he has a good job, an annoying but very pretty girl in a serious relationship with him, and a nice car — and this always dissolves all at once in a chaotic mix of restraining orders, unemployment, and God knows what else that leaves him living in his car for a little while before it starts all over again. I am sure that this is all that is happening now, so sure that my first move after the troubling encounter with the police is to head down to the card clubs around 40th and San Pablo. Of course, Mike adores gambling.

As I mentioned, I am a good girl. I have lived in Oakland for a hundred years and I have even noticed that some of the card clubs serve food 24 hours per day, but I have never set foot in any of them. That is why it is so weird when everyone at the card club turns around and nods at me when I come in, as though I am a regular.

I walk towards a counter to talk to a girl who is about my age. She looks horrified. “Not in here!” she says. The girl grabs my arm and takes me out back.