Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
Back in the day, before my father passed, I was bartending full-time. I was making something of a name for myself at the bar I worked at for the new and creative drinks I made. People made a big deal out of them, calling me a genius mixologist, which I think is kind of ridiculous. I mean, the truth of the matter is, I was bored slinging the same stupid drinks over and over again, so I just started doing something different. My concoctions became popular, and people were flocking to the bar to try them. My boss at the time loved it, of course.
It was fun, and I was having a good time. But then my father died, and everything changed. My boss at the time did everything he could to keep me working at the bar, but those buildings were my dad’s legacy, and I felt like it was my duty to take up the mantle. I still do. It’s steadier work and I’m making more money, which is nice. But it can also sometimes be lonely work. The only time people call is when they have a problem they need me to fix. I go and fix it and that’s that. There isn’t a lot of opportunity for social interaction.
That’s why I started to pick up guest bartending shifts. I’ve still got a popular name and use social media to announce where I will be because I’ve still got a following who will show up to whatever bar I’m hosting at. It’s a win-win. The bar makes money, and I get to do something fun and social for a night. To be truthful, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve gotten to be a bit more solitary and less of a good-time guy, but now and then, I still like to hang out and be around people in a fun, social setting. Guest shifts sate that need in me.
I pass on the two Sunsets to the women who ordered them and flash them a smile as they drop a ten into my tip jar and a scrap of paper I assume has one of their numbers on it. I tend to collect at least a few numbers in my tip jar every shift, but they end up in the trash can. That’s not why I do these shifts.
Stu Hopper, the bar owner, saunters over with a big, shit-eating grin on his face. “Looks like you drew a pretty good crowd tonight.”
“Yeah, we’re doing pretty well.”
“I can’t thank you enough for doing a couple of shifts here.”
“Hey, it’s all good,” I tell him. “It’s good for both of us.”
From the corner of my eye, I see somebody approaching the bar. I turn and feel my stomach clench when I see Sierra and another girl her age standing there. They both smile, and Sierra’s friend gives me a cute little wave that makes me laugh. Stu’s deep, booming laughter rings out as he slaps me on the back.
“Go get ‘em, tiger,” he says.
I walk over to where they’re standing and lean against the bar. “You made it.”
“We did,” Sierra says. “Moni here thought we needed a night out.”
“You have no idea how badly this girl needs to have a good time,” the other girl says.
Sierra rolls her eyes. “Slater, this is my best friend, Monica. That status might change depending on her behavior here tonight.”
“Don’t listen to her; she’ll never get rid of me. She loves me too much,” the girl says. “And you can call me Moni.”
“Nice to meet you, Moni.”
“You too.”
“Well, what can I get you two? My treat,” I ask.
They look at the chalkboard propped up on the bar behind me that lists all the specialty drinks I’m making tonight. Sierra seems lost, and I can tell she doesn’t drink much. If at all.
“We’ll leave it in your capable hands,” Sierra says.
“All right then,” I say. “Give me just a minute.”
A few more people come to the bar, so I handle them first. After getting their drinks and sending them on their way, I quickly whip up a couple of cocktails and set them down on the bar in front of Sierra and her friend.
“And what are these?” Sierra asks brightly.
“I call these Whiplashes.”
“Sounds ominous.”
Moni takes a drink. “Wow. These are amazing.”
Sierra takes a hesitant sip and nods. “Wow. They really are. What’s in them?”
“A little of this and a little of that,” I tell them. “Go easy on them, though. They’re sweet and citrusy, but they pack a wicked punch.”
“Noted,” Sierra says and looks around.
“I checked out your socials,” Moni says. “You’re practically a celebrity.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I tell her.
“I would. You’ve got a huge following.”
“You’ll have to forgive her,” Sierra says. “She’s a bit of a stalker with boundary issues.”
“Nothing wrong with checking out the man who wants to bang my best friend,” Moni replies with a shrug.