Jay "Smooth"

During my high school years, I worked at my local IGA grocery store. You meet some very interesting people in that line of business, both customers and co-workers alike. I worked a number of jobs during my tenure, all of which yielded unique experiences. One event from when I worked in the dairy department that sticks out in my mind is when I learned of the origin of my co-worker Jay’s nickname.

A number of employees earned themselves nicknames during their time with our illustrious grocery store. Jay is one of the few to bring a nickname with him from before his employment. I first started hearing the name Jay Smooth thrown around the school halls my sophomore year. I was curious of the name then and became ever more curious when my co-workers and managers alike started using it themselves when Jay took a job with the store. Despite my curiosity, I never worked up the courage to ask Jay himself about it.

One day, a few months into Jay’s employment with our IGA, one of the office ladies up front got on the intercom and said, “Jay Smooth to the front office for customer service.” I was in the dairy cooler taking note of our stock along with the dairy manager Eddy. Eddy is a good, hard working guy who’s been around awhile, his only fault being he’s a Yankees fan. I can forgive him of that though. Jay’s call to the front office renewed my interest in his nickname, and I figured if anyone would know where he got his name, it’d be Eddy.

I turned to Ed and asked, “Hey Ed, when did everyone start calling Jay, Jay Smooth?” Eddy pondered the question for a moment and answered, “A few years back. The first person I heard using it was Bobby D.” Bobby D. was another employee of our IGA who’d been around a long time.

I wondered aloud, “How did Bobby know about Jay before a few months ago? He didn’t go to school with us.” Eddy continued, “I’ll get to that." Ed leaned back and stretched his arms, "You know how Bobby is; he’s always chasing some girl or other. Well a few years back Bobby was after some girl and managed to get invited to a party she was attending. He spent the whole week telling me about how he was gonna get with this girl. I was even rooting for the guy; he’s so . . . criminal looking. He has that face only a mother could love. He really needed to get with a girl.”

Eddy paused for a moment, his breath visible in the cold of the dairy cooler. I kept the conversation alive, asking, “What happened next?” Eddy responded, “Bobby came to work the day after the party hung over and defeated.” I inquired, “So he lost the girl?” To which Eddy replied, “Yes, he lost the girl to another man. He spent the rest of the next week cursing the name of Jay Smooth.”

Eddy stopped and chuckled, then said, “I didn’t think much of it until a couple of months ago when some young punk came into the back room and introduced himself as the one-and-only Jay Smooth.” Eddy chuckled again, “Former rivals in love now co-workers. It’s a great story. Not only that but I’ve met a living legend.” Eddy turned back to his work as I pondered the story I just heard. Now I knew how Jay got his name, but something was still missing. I didn’t know the whole story. The curiosity ate away at me enough to overcome my apprehension, granting me the courage to ask Jay himself about the nickname. The next time I worked I stopped Jay in one of the aisles, swallowed the lump in my throat and asked him, “Why does everyone call you Jay Smooth?”

Jay smiled at hearing my question, to my great relief, and asked his own in return, “I’ve never told you the story of Jay Smooth?” I shook my head in the negative, so he began. Jay leaned against one of the shelves, got comfortable and said, “It all started one Friday night a couple of years back. I didn’t have anything going on that night and was hanging out in my living room watching TV when there was a knock at my door. I answered it. There’s my neighbor Russ, towering over me with a cup of beer in one hand and some girl in the other.”

Jay paused for a moment then started again excitedly, "You know Russ." I looked at him confusedly, "I do?" Jay answered, "Yes, he was the guy who worked dairy before you." I stared at Jay incredulously, "That Russ?" Jay said, "Yes, that Russ. He came over to ask if I wanted to go to his party. He said he had a keg. I was like hell yes and went over.” Jay smiled the entire time he recounted the story. I interrupted again, this time to prod him, “So you went to the party . . .” And Jay finished my sentence, “. . . And the first person to bump into me was some blond girl. She’s like, ‘I’m so glad I bumped into you. You need to help me.’ Apparently she was being hounded by some drunken loser. The man giving her the creeps crawled over to us, and it was none other than Bobby D.”

Jay stopped. I paused, looked over my shoulder and saw our boss Brian giving us the evil eye. Brian snorted and yelled, “The both of you get back to work.” Jay smiled and waved as he turned and walked out of the aisle. I followed shortly thereafter once Brian moved on and caught up with Jay on his way to the back room.

I restarted our conversation, asking him to continue. Jay spoke as we walked, “So, Bobby arrived at the party earlier that evening and had been lurking around, stalking this poor girl. She noticed him but just ignored him hoping he’d eventually go away. That worked up until Bobby got a few drinks down. A couple of beers and suddenly he had the balls to confront her directly and declare his love for her. The problem with liquid courage though is it’s easier to get closer to girls, but all too often you get too close. Mild dislike turned to all out revulsion for the girl as Bob reached too hard trying to get to third base.”

Jay and I found ourselves in the back room; both of us leaned against the rollers. I was too caught up in the story to notice where we were at that moment. Jay kept on, “Bobby chased this girl all over the party, chasing right to me. She saw an opportunity to escape and latched onto my arm. She turned to Bob hurriedly and said, ‘I’m not going with you. I’m with. . .’ She looked at me and I said, ‘Jay.’ She spoke to Bob again, this time with authority, ‘I’m with Jay tonight.’ Turning her nose up at Bobby she pulled me along and hopefully away. I shrugged and went with it. This didn’t stop Bobby though, oh no. He was determined.”

Jay stopped again. It was then both of us realized Brian was standing right next to us, listening to our conversation. Brian said, “Please Jay, continue.” There was silence. Jay then blurted out, “This got awkward really quick.” He took off leaving me alone with Brian. I said, “I’d better get back to work.” Brian responded, “You go do that.” I walked out of the back room and down the dairy aisle. I took to leveling the goods on the shelf, making them presentable and seeing if anything of import needed to be restocked. Very soon I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, Jay peering at me from around the corner of the shelving. He turned down the aisle and slid up next to me.

Jay smiled and began, “Anyway, before I was so rudely interrupted, Bobby D., continued to stalk the both of us despite the rather harsh rejection he was dealt. His courage bruised but not broken, he plowed on. I didn’t really care too much because, hey, I had a hot blonde attached to my arm. Well, the party died down and Russ, the thinkin’ man he is, set up a bunch of tents in his back yard for those without rides too drunk to drive home them selves. The girl with me was one of them and much to her dismay so was Bobby.”

Jay paused for a second, scanned the area for Brian, and seeing he was in the clear continued, “She dragged me to each tent and settled on the smallest one which could only house two people comfortably. I suppose she thought this would definitely dissuade Bobby. We both climbed in. Bobby followed shortly thereafter. So there we were me, this girl and Bobby D. all lying in this cramped tent. No one slept.”

Having forgotten about my work, I listened intently to the rest of Jay’s story. He went on, “The girl went home the next morning and I staggered back to my house and passed out on the couch. We left Bobby alone in the tent.” Jay sighed and added, “I was with her that whole night and never did get that girl’s name.”

Now I had the full story. I took it all in, but I still had one question, “So it was Bobby who started calling you Jay Smooth?” Jay’s face lit up and he responded, “Yeah, after that night he started telling everybody I slept with that girl in the tent . . . while he watched. He called me that pimp Jay Smooth. Everyone else picked up on it pretty quickly. I’ve just gone for the ride ever since.” There it is the story of Jay Smooth. A nickname and reputation built on misunderstanding and misinformation, but I suppose that’s how history is made.

But of course the story never actually ends, Bobby D. walked in on Jay and I talking as our conversation came to an end. Bobby sauntered over and wedged himself between Jay and me and said, “What’s this loser Jay Smooth doing? Filling your head with lies by the looks of it” Bobby’s hoarse voice jarred the senses whenever he started speaking. Jay smiled and greeted Bobby cordially, “How ya doin’ Bob?” Bobby ignored Jay, so Jay turned and left waving as he went, “Whatever. See you guys later.”

Bobby put his hand on my shoulder and told me, “Don’t listen to that snake oil salesman; he’ll sell you up the river if you give him the chance.” Jay looked back and called out to Bobby, “Hey Bob, quit molesting the poor guy and let him get back to his work.” Jay left. Bobby grunted and walked in the other direction. It was then I asked Bobby, before he was out of earshot, “Bob, that girl who slept with Jay in the tent, what was her name?” Bobby shot a painful look at me, turned his back and walked away. I got back to work.