Fat Man in the Bathtub

Billy and Juanita had come up from Villere Street to the shared room in the boarding house, it smelled of sweat and perfume, as the places often did. They were laughing and dancing a bit, while they fondled each other just a little, before falling onto an old brown couch. You probably wouldn't call them drunk, but they'd had a few. The kissing and touching and removal of garments began in earnest, but was quickly cut short.

"Aw, Juanita, babe." Rita, her roommate said entering the room, "He can't stay... not right now. Fat Barney is in'a tub."
"What?" Billy sputtered, "I already paid for drinks and all!"
"C'mon now, we got a problem." Rita replied as she moved his scrawny body toward the door, "Juanita know you got some money in'a meter, she'll take care o' you."
"Juanita! You gonna let her toss me?"

Before anyone could answer, Billy was shown the door, even though he was still going on about having to leave. Juanita turned to Rita and asked what was going on. The rent was coming due, and she needed the money. Before she could describe the problem, there was a loud moaning from the bathroom, and Billy, who was still on the stoop outside had something to say.

"Hey! What's all that noise?" He yelled after he stepped down on the sidewalk. "Juanita, my li'l taquita, what you got goin' on in there?"
Juanita leaned out the window. "Come back tomorrow, honey, I'll set you right."
"I got some work tomorrow!"
"Then Tuesday..." Rita said from another window on the first floor of the little brick building.

Billy lost it and ran down the street. He yelled about his simple needs and the unfairness of it all. About the time he was going to turn the corner, he flipped his cigarette into a pile of trash without putting it out. Much of the French Quarter was built with brick and metal, but there was plenty left to catch fire. The smoulder grew into a little flame, and no one realized it. Juanita, a dark skin and hair Texas transplant, joined her housemate in the bathroom.

"I don't believe I've ever been so glad to see a towel."
"I t'rew it on 'im. Shoulda used a ol' bed sheet." Rita, a New Orleans local, replied.
"Did you pull the plug?" Juanita asked.
"Well, I got a'hold of the chain, ain't noway nohow I was goin' deeper dan dat." She said. "He also kinda' over the drain. Water goin' down, but real slow..."
Barnard moaned again, "You two lovely ladies can't leave me like this. You must help!"
They both ignored him. "Did you try and pull him out?"
"Honey," Rita replied, "I don' er'thing but rent a hoist."
Juanita snorted. "Why is he here again, anyway?"
"Says his tub is too small, so he pays good to sit in ours." She pondered, "Mebbe he had too many of those wine cakes his momma buys him..."

Juanita chastised Rita even more for letting Barnard back in, but then they still tried to move him with no luck, Juanita said, "Call the fire department."
"You think they gon' help? They more likely laugh themse'f to death!"
"No, no, Rita. Smell"
She sniffed the air. "Fire?"
Juanita grabbed her and headed out of the room. "It smells like it to me!"
"Stop!" Barnard wailed behind them. "Don't leave me here to fry!"
"You in wad'ah, ya tubby bastid... you gonna berl like a mudbug!"

They got out to the street, and while there wasn't a great deal of smoke yet, it was clear the building on the corner was ablaze. Rita had lived there awhile and headed for the callbox down the street, she pulled it, but the station wasn't very close. By the time the firemen arrived, the second house on the block was partially burning, and theirs could be next. The people of the neighborhood were out of their houses, but it wasn't a large crowd yet. So when the fire crew arrived they had little trouble getting their attention.

"Guys!" Rita called and motioned for the firemen, "There's a guy trapped in that room!"
Both women pointed to the window. "In der!"
Two of the men in bunker gear ran over and looked in the window, "Where? I don't see anyone!"
"He in dat big tub!"
"What?!" The fireman was incredulous. "Why don't he just get out?"
"He stuck," Rita continued. "He a big fat man, and he stuck in dat t'ing!"
Just then Barnard let loose a sorrowful moan, and Juanita said, "Sound like he singing the blues, too..."
"Me and you can climb through, Martin." He said to his partner, "We'l loose him up and shove him out dis window."
"Oh, no you won't," Juanita replied. "That boy turns sideways to get through the door. You'd have to quarter him like a buck to fit him through!"
"Ladies, thanks for your help, but please step back so we can work."

The younger man went back for different tools, while the other knocked panes of glass down carefully with his Kelly. He figured in a bathroom, he could find a towel to toss over the shards to protect bare feet. The door was out of the question, because they had hoses in and were working the fire from that angle. His partner arrived with a sledgehammer and a pickax, and they went to work making a hole. Once it was big enough, they entered to the whole scene.

"Damn." One said.
"Got dat right," Said the other.
"Please, good sirs and friends to the common man. Assist me out of this awful predicament!" Barnard pleaded. But try as they might, they couldn't get him out.
"Hold on, I got an ide'r." He spelled it out to the older man and then ran for gear.

The strap was wrapped around the tub and secured, then attached the the hitch on the triple axle rescue truck. It took a couple of hard yanks to free the big old claw-foot, but once it got going, it slid along the tile floor easily. All was well until the back legs came of the twelve inch concrete floor slab, and then the truck lurched a bit. As it did, the lovely old ornate tub tipped over.

With a loud sucking sound and a liquid pop, Barnard came free of his watery prison, and rolled like an enormous sack of potatoes across the sidewalk into the gutter. He landed face down, much to the relief of onlookers. Several of the emergency personnel headed over with blankets, the blaze having been contained and nearly extinguished. However, either the hot water, short tub ride, or a roll on concrete had loosened the massive insides of the obese fair haired man with a pencil thin mustache. The wrinkled white cheeks flapped in an exaggerated Bronx cheer, and emitted a methane stench that overpowered the smouldering ashes. Those with blankets paused, then finally covered him.

"Oh, Lord, his poor momma goin' to have ta' leave da parish!" A bystander exclaimed.
"Parish?" Another replied, "Dat po' woman gon' hav'ta leave deh whole state!"

(WC:1184)

Fat Man in the Bathtub

Spotcheck Billy got down on his hands and knees
He said "Hey momma, hey let me check your oil all right?"
She said "No, no honey, not tonight
Comeback Monday, comeback Tuesday, then I might."
I said Juanita, my sweet Jaunita, what are you up to?
My Juanita
I said Jaunita, my sweet taquita, what are you up to?
My Juanita
Don't want nobody who won't dive for dimes
Don't want no speedballs 'cause I might die tryin
Throw me a line, throw me a line
'Cause there's a fat man in the bathtub with the blues
I hear you moan, I hear you moan, I hear you moan
Billy got so sad, dejected, put on his hat and start to run
Runnin' down the street yellin' at the top of his lungs
All I want in this life of mine is some good clean fun
All I want in this life and time is some hit and run
I said Juanita, my sweet Jaunita, what are you up to?
My Jaunita
I said Jaunita, my sweet taquito, what are you up to?
My Juanita
Put my money in your meter baby so it won't run down
But you caught me in the squeeze play on the cheesy side of town
Throw me a dime, throw me a line
'Cause there's a fat man in the bathtub with the blues
I hear you moan, I hear you moan, I hear you moan

Songwriter: Lowell George