my friend, who helps me stock the coolers for tomorrow once the chairs are off the floor.
“What else do you need?” Jameson asks before entering the walk-in cooler.
“Two Bud Lights, a Busch Light, and probably two Coors Lights,” I reply after a quick scan of the case.
He throws me a salute and vanishes through the heavy door.
“Where’s Numbers?” I ask, as Jasper returns to the bar. I’m referring to Isaac, our number-loving friend.
“Where do you think?” Jasper asks, twisting the cap off a bottle of water and tossing it in the trash. Once he takes a healthy pull from the bottle, he starts gathering up trash bags from the receptacles behind the counter. “Newton’s always in his office.”
Newton, as in Isaac Newton. The other nickname for Numbers. Fitting, isn’t it?
Jameson slides cases of beer out the door, so I head over to help carry them behind the bar. When Jameson returns with the rest, we get to work filling back up the coolers. Kallie restocks bottles of liquor, making note of the ones getting low or that sold really well throughout the weekend. It helps make my Mondays a little easier when I inventory and order.
“How’d we do tonight, boys?” Numbers asks, making his grand entrance.
I glance at my watch. “It’s twelve thirty. What the hell have you been doing up there?” I ask, washing the rest of the dirty glasses and placing them in the rack to dry.
“Working, just like you,” he retorts dryly. Isaac moves to the cash register and starts to close it out. He’s not always here when we close, but everyone tries to stay on Saturday nights, our busiest night of the week.
Grinning, I occupy myself with cleaning everything up. By one, floors are swept and mopped and everything is stocked and shut down. Kallie signs out on the iPad and Jameson walks her to her car, as he does every weekend. Finally, it’s just me and my three partners left in the now-empty building.
“It was a good night,” Numbers says, as he finishes off his bottle of water.
“No issues, which always means a good night,” Jameson adds, referring to the occasional fight that breaks out in the bar. It doesn’t happen too often, mostly because the locals know not to start shit inside this place. Jameson’s scary on a good day, but when he’s here, he takes his job very seriously. Yet, throw in a little booze and any situation can go from zero to holy shit in less than five seconds flat.
“We sold out of the meatloaf burger tonight, so no complaints from me,” Jasper adds.
Burgers and Brew is divided into two large sections, the bar side and the restaurant. Our specialty is gourmet burgers, an idea Jasper had one night in college when we couldn’t find a good burger joint anywhere near the campus. He vowed when he opened his own place, it would have the best burgers in town. He’s more than accomplished his dream, serving food seven days a week.
I stick my third of the tips into my pocket and throw Jameson his cut. Kallie took hers before she left. “Thank you,” he grumbles in that gruff voice.
“Let’s get out of here, boys,” I holler, shutting off the lights above the mirrors. There’s one strip left, lighting the way to the back door.
The night air is cool for late August in Ohio, but I think it’s fucking perfect. This is the type of season I’d take all year long. Leaving the windows open at night is the best sleeping weather ever. The only thing that would make it better is to have a naked woman beside me. But that’s not gonna happen. When I have someone over, they don’t spend the night. I don’t snuggle or cook breakfast in the morning. I want none of the bullshit that resembles a relationship.
Period.
“See you tomorrow,” Jameson hollers, heading over to his vintage Harley Davidson. He has a Nova in the garage but prefers the bike when he can ride it.
“Later,” I reply with a wave, heading for my 1986 Jeep CJ-7.
I wait in the lot until Isaac and Jasper are both in their own vehicles before I pull out onto the main artery through town. The streets are deserted as I drive home, a welcomed reprieve from the heavier traffic of going into work mid-afternoon.
By the time I pull into my driveway and open my garage, I’m more than ready to be home. A hot shower is calling my name. I throw