my Jeep keys on the counter and head straight for the bathroom. As the water heats up, I move to my bedroom, tossing my wallet and phone on my dresser and stripping out of tonight’s clothes. Dark jeans and a black Burgers and Brew sleeveless T-shirt are pretty much my standard wardrobe, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.
The moment I step under the shower spray, I feel my body finally relax. This is my second favorite way to unwind after a long night. Sure, I could have easily found someone to come home with me, but I really try not to take a bar patron home. Last time I did, I thought she was gonna boil my bunny. Even though I was very clear that our time together was just sex, she didn’t like being asked to leave. It took forever before she finally left, but then she showed up the next morning with bagels, wearing a thong bikini.
It was March.
Five days of madness and one restraining order later, I vowed to never bring home one of those numbers I’m given most nights at work.
How do I meet women, you ask?
Easy.
The grocery store. True story. Do you know how many horny, single women are buying food on a random Tuesday night? My favorite is when I find them in the frozen section buying ice cream. There’s only one reason a woman buys three pints of ice cream in the middle of the week, and that’s because the douche she was dating fucked up. That’s when I get fucked. Because they’re not looking for forever. They’re looking to numb the pain.
I can handle that.
Of course, I don’t find all my lady friends in the grocery store. I’ve met plenty running through the park or even at the movie theatre. All I’m saying is there are a number of options available if you know where to look.
And I’m an expert on looking.
After my shower, I slip my phone on the charger and settle on a playlist. Nirvana starts to play through my Bluetooth speaker, filling my bedroom with enough noise to ease me into sleep. I don’t know why I need music, but I do. Always have. Even as a child, my parents said I had to have the radio on to fall asleep.
As Kurt Cobain sings about smelling like teen spirit, I finally drift off to sleep.
***
Mondays are busy, but for a different reason than other days of the week. Monday is my “office” day. Inventory, placing orders, and our partner meeting takes up a big chunk of my day. I never schedule myself to work behind the bar on Mondays, and usually have one bartender throughout the week, since it’s lighter than the weekend. But I’m always there, so if I’m needed behind the counter, I can jump in at any time.
I’m in the storage room, counting liquor bottles and filling out my weekly order form. Def Leppard spills from the jukebox and echoes down the short hallway. The sound of heavy boots thump over the hair band tune, and I already know who’s heading my way before he enters the room.
“Jasper’s all pissed off again,” Jameson announces as he comes around the corner.
“What’s new?” I ask, wondering what our finicky chef is in an uproar about now.
“He’s going to have a heart attack before he’s forty,” my broody friend proclaims.
I snort. “We said the same thing in college. How he made it past twenty-five is beyond me. What’s got his panties in a bunch this morning?”
“Another server called in sick. He yelled at Numbers to find him reliable help or he was going to do it himself.”
That makes me laugh. Jasper is a hell of a cook, but his people skills are lacking. He’s the boss in the kitchen, plain and simple, and can be a little pushy or hard to work with. But really, he just wants everyone to do their job. He knows everyone makes mistakes yet struggles to accept them. We know it and love him for his strong personality, but also have no trouble putting him in his place when needed.
We tend to go through servers quickly. At least those who aren’t truly committed to the job. The ones who are make great tips, and if you can deal with a hot-headed boss, then you’re golden. If you show up when you’re scheduled and do your job, you’re going to be just fine.
“Isaac made some calls and had two interviews earlier. He wants