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“Well, time is a luxury we don’t have. Get it together, or you’re out.”
I grit my teeth, nodding curtly. “Got it.”
As I move to the next table, I feel a surge of resolve. I won’t let Jay’s criticism break me. I’ve never given up before, and I’m not about to start now. I’ll show him that I’m more than capable, that I can handle the pressure and prove him wrong.
CHAPTER 7
JAY
On Saturday night, Violet’s shift goes a little more smoothly. She works quickly, and she’s getting the drink orders back and forth from the counter in a timely fashion.
I shouldn’t have time to think about her as I’m making different orders, gliding around behind the counter, and smiling at customers to keep them engaged and happy. But somehow, despite all of that, I do.
Every time she swaggers up to the counter, I can’t take my eyes off her. I try to force them to the glass in my hand or something under the bar. Or I turn around as I hear the drink names flow off her tongue, but as she walks away, I turn and get a peek at her ass which is almost hanging out from the bottom of her short, long-sleeved, brown dress.
This woman is so distracting, and she doesn’t even realize it.
As I start thinking about her dress, it really starts to annoy me. It’s one thing to dress attractively. Customers like to have an attractive server who is willing to engage in conversation and interact with them. A lot of people come here because they want to have a good time.
But dressing attractively and provocatively are completely different, and my bar is not the kind of place people go to find hookers. This is Maplewood, not Las Vegas.
The more I think about it, the more annoyed I get. She’s ruining the vibe of the bar, and I need to talk to her about it. I won’t do it now, though, in front of customers. I’ll talk to her privately.
I nod as I come to the decision.
“How’s the new girl doing?” Harold asks, interrupting my thoughts.
He’s sitting in his same stool as always, just a few feet away from the door like he’s always prepared for a quick getaway.
I shrug and glance in Violet’s direction again. “She’s doing better than last night.”
“That’s all you can ask for. Improvement means she’s interested in keeping the position. She cares about the feedback you’ve given her, and she’s putting it into practice.”
Harold talks about Violet like she’s a faithful employee who is dogmatically attempting to do her best in a new position. But I don’t see Violet that way. In fact, the way I keep seeing her is the way she was that first night, laid out across the table, legs spread for me.
I continue to stand close to the bar so Harold can’t see that just the memory of Violet is making me hard. “She’s trying,” I agree.
“And trying is the only thing you can ask for, not perfection. I’ve seen those serious looks you’re shooting her way all evening. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but perfection will only run all your servers off, then you’ll have a lot of angry customers. Not me, of course, but your other, less loyal customers.”
I smile at Harold, because he probably spends a good three hundred dollars here a week, and I’ve never had to cut him off. He’s an excellent customer. “Well, speaking of those other customers, I should probably check on some of them.” I pat the bar in front of Harold. “Speak with you later.”
Once I’ve served the others sitting at the bar, Violet approaches me and rattles off a list of six drinks. My hands are already moving as she names the first one. When she’s done, my hands continue to move, preparing the drinks mechanically as she stands there.
She bites her lip and glances back over her shoulder, scanning the tables, and I take advantage of the moment. “I need to talk to you at the end of your shift tonight,” I tell her.
“Why?” Her eyes narrow as she whips her head around in my direction.
“I’d rather not get into it right now.”
“You’d rather get into it later? Last night, you had no problem critiquing me in front of everyone.”
I don’t like her attitude, the way she is practically begging for confrontation. However, I act like the bigger person that I am and don’t stoop to her level. “We’ll talk later,” I declare, thumping one of the drinks onto her tray.
It only takes me two more minutes to have the others ready, and I can feel Violet glaring at me the whole time I work. My other bartender, Jerry, is just as busy as I am, but I decide that a mid-shift switch would do us good.
“Have you taken your break?” I ask him, thumping him on the shoulder.
“Not yet. Been too busy.”
