Closing Arguments

|7|

Etching Wet Pussy Wednesdays into my calendar is not at all how I thought my second week of semester would go.

No, not in an act of complete character reversal, this girl had not in fact gone wild. But in my father's not so subtle shove towards earning my own way, Mr Gallagher's welcome with open arms to the cheap-drinks den that is Gallaghers, had meant the law-laden calendar was no longer. My days were now punctuated with drink specials, what an unexpected joy.

I'd waited until my ankle didn't cause me to hobble so much before I walked over to my new employer. Who's liquored up facade didn't look nearly as appealing in the daytime as it did at 10pm, let me tell you. Paul or Mr Gallagher to his more formal acquaintances was suitably welcoming. There wasn't so much as an interview just a quick glance head to toe and my name was on the roster.

Looking around the venue, from the bottle-green carpet that hid all spills and sins to the embellished ceilings that once added charm (now, they just showed age) and I could see why Paul was so eager for my helping hand. Even mid-afternoon it was a flurry of boozed up studiers and mellowed out students off the clock. And if I'd thought this was just a party spot, I'd been sorely mistaken.

He was a man ten years younger than my dad, confirming he was the manager and not the owner. The polo shirt and R.M. Williams told me he'd endeavoured to make the dress code smart, despite the less than fully dressed patrons that often wandered in. He wasn't greying or portly, but he did look weathered. And from what he shared in his brief chats, my help would mean he would be able to see his kids a couple of nights a week. So with that in mind the long, laborious days seemed a little less daunting.

Paul took me, his newest recruit around each of the four floors and back to his office to chat the finer details of rostering and what not. A scintillating and swift chat ending in him introducing me to the girl manning the busiest bar with an ease I envied.

"Harper, this is Summer. She's pre-med and she'll be on the same shifts as you. You can thank her later for the excellent training and tips." Paul shared, gesturing to the black-haired wizard stirring, pouring and shaking several cups as if she had an extra set of limbs. She was gorgeous, willowy hair, dark features and a smattering of freckles across her nose - confirming she did get to leave the bar on occasion. The uniform or not so, suiting her astoundingly well too. A black leather skirt and a black scoop neck tee, with a denim apron waisted and bound around her tiny figure.

"You'll love it here, Harper. And you'll never want to drink here yourself ever again." She smiled genuinely.

"There goes my standing reservation for Jaegerbomb Thursdays." I uttered quietly and Summer's ears perked up, earning me a second grin.

"Better be no changes to the tip structure, Paul. Harper and I are going to be raking it in come Wednesday." A cocktail shaker cocked high above her head in motion as she winked my way.

"That's my plan exactly Miss Nguyen, that jar is all yours to split halves on Wednesday and Thursday nights. 5pm-2am feasible for you, Harper?" Paul smiled hopefully my way, the crinkles of which only just reached the dark circles under his eyes.

Those shifts sounded brutal, but Thursday was a class-free day this semester so I could make that work. Albeit with a brutal step up in my coffee regime, sure. But I didn't really have a choice, and something about Summer's company made me feel at total calm about the terrifying new prospect.

"Yes, I can make that work. What's the hourly rate for those shifts?"

"$30 an hour plus tips, and I have you on with this star on our two busiest nights. You'll be clearing quite a bit more than the hourly."