I lit up a cigarette I didn't want to smoke. I smoked it. I loosened my bra strap with a free hand-the clasp was broken, and it itched my shoulder. I wished again that I could afford a new one, or that I could wear the cheap little lacey ones from Wal-Mart.
"What are you doing up this early, Jen?"
It was funny how Rick could look so slinky and dangerous at night, like a varsity James Dean, and be so ridiculously fish belly white in the morning. Sunlight washed him out, thinned his hair, and made him look exactly like someone's husband. I got a mental flash of him at forty. In eleven fleeting years, he would be wearing knit Levi's and short-sleeved snap-front shirts to neighborhood barbecues. It made me sorry I was stuck cocktailing in a sports bar at twenty-four, with no car, no degree, and no one I cared to see brushing his teeth every night.
"I'm still awake from last night. I don't have to be at work until seven. I'm working the closing shift."
Rick had pitiful down to an art, and he shot me his best kicked-in-the-head-by-love look. "I'm hungry, honey. Y'all never have anything to eat here."
I laughed sarcastically. "I'm sure your mom has breakfast waiting, honey." He rolled his eyes and snatched up his ball cap, whining about losing his car keys and my bad attitude. "Where are my keys? And stop talking about my mom. There's nothing wrong with me staying there-I'm gonna get a house eventually. Apartments are for college kids."
The snort came out-I couldn't choke it back. "Um, yeah. They're for college kids who pay their own way, Mr. Grown-up." Rick snatched my cigarettes, stuck one behind his ear, and slammed out the door. I rolled over and went to sleep. It was seven-thirty a.m.
I woke up a few hours later to find Oprah wearing a gorgeous butter-yellow pantsuit and talking to some guy who wrote a book about women from Venus falling in love. Laney was on the ottomon smoking a cigarette.
"Morning friend. You missed Rosie. It sucked, though."
"Eh," I shrugged, "It was a re-run anyway. I saw promos for it yesterday. What time do you work tonight?"
She made a face. "Seven, how stupid is that? I can't believe they scheduled three of us on a Tuesday. We're gonna have what, three people in cocktail maybe? Brandon is so stupid." I nodded in agreement. Brandon was twenty-two, newly management, and screwing the head bartender. He had no business telling me what to do, but I was used to incompetent bosses by then. Laney took it too seriously, in my opinion. Slinging beer is just a way to a means, and sweating the particulars is a waste of time. I lit up a cigarette and we finished Oprah in sleepy silence.
At six thirty, we were rooting around in piles of clothes, searching for our uniform shirts. The apartment was a mess-covered in beer cans and overflowing ashtrays. All our friends were servers too, and apartment 632 was the most popular after-hours crash pad. Managers, cooks, bartenders, waiters, they all loved us. There were usually four or five of them passed out on the floor in the mornings, but last night nobody stayed. Somebody else had a keg.
In her room, Laney was blasting her Joan Jett CD and dancing around in her bra and panties, looking for a clean pair of shorts. I poked my head in.
"Hey! I think Cowboy Dan is coming in tonight-you can have him. I've already made rent." Cowboy Dan was a regular who spent the whole night slamming tequila shots and trying to buy his way into a waitress-any waitress. He didn't care. As long as you were too young and too pretty for him, he'd throw money at you all night. He might've been cute twenty years ago, but currently he was resembling his alligator boots a bit too closely for my taste.
"Yuck," Laney groaned, "I don't know if it's worth the money. I'm always afraid he'll follow me out to my car and rip my shirt off or something." I laughed.
"Ha! He'd hyperventilate at the first sight of your tits, and collapse onto the parking lot. You'd be fine. Then we could pick his pockets, send you to school, and finally cut my demo."
Laney started imitating his usual drunken pick up lines, hunching over and grabbing her crotch. "Hey, did I tell you how mush munny I got? My wallet hash four hunnerd dollars with your name on it, honey. I shwear, I've got all the money you'll ever need, baby All for you." I cracked up and joined in.
"You probably think I'm alot younger than I look, sugar. I'm a real handsome guy for my age." We kept up the impression for a few minutes, and then Laney gave me "the smile".
It was time for our pre-work ritual.....the daily smoky treat. She went for the bowl and I broke out the stuff. "Ah," I thought, "it's good to be young and stupid."
Due to technical difficulties, we lost the first chapter-but Annette should be sending it soon!
