Page 9 of Dirty Reads

THREE

Jess

WORKING for a living sucked big fat dicks.Deep within me, a little rich girl resided, all I lacked was the resources.

The Benjamins. Moolah. Bank. Dat swag money.

And my job as a waitress at the shitty little bar I worked at wasn’t getting me any closer.

“Hey, this tastes like shit.” A voice beside me shouted.

I glanced over my left shoulder. A middle-aged man with a sweet as fuck comb-over raised his half-finished glass of beer in the air.

“It’s a beer. What’d you expect? I’ll bring you shot of vodka to pour in it. It might help.”

He looked confused. Maybe he hoped to get more from me, I don’t know. But if he expected me to make a glass of beer taste good, he was going to be in for a really long fucking night.

He shot me a glare. “Huh?”

“It’s beer. Beer taste like shit. What do you want me to do?”

He shrugged. “Get me something different?”

“Something that tastes good? Like an Alice in Wonderland or a White Russian? Or some of our fifty-cent wings? They taste good. Actually, they’re good as fuck. They’re dry rubbed, not battered and fried like everyone else’s. Oh, and the Black and Blue Burger. It’s good.”

He chuckled a light laugh. At least he found humor in my sarcastic attitude. He raised the glass as if offering it to me and shook his head. “How about a Budweiser?”

It seemed like a ridiculous resolution. “Budweiser’s beer, so it’ll taste like shit, too. It’ll be like comparing a cat turd to a dog turd. They’re both turds.”

I thought I was quick-witted. Funny. Cute.

He looked unamused. “Just smell this. Really. Something’s wrong with it.”

I knew what was wrong with it, it was a glass of stinking fucking beer. For entertainment value alone, I turned around, snatched the glass from his hand, and took a whiff.

My stomach convulsed. I fought not to puke. “Jesus. Fuck.” I shook my head and tried to clear the smell from my nostrils. It didn’t help.

I stared at the glass of beer. It seemed normal. “What was this nasty fucker?”

“Shock Top.”

I couldn’t believe he’d choked down half of it. I raised my shoulders and the glass in apology. “Sorry. I’ll get you a Bud.”

He smiled and nodded his head in appreciation.

The bar I worked in catered to everyone from the owner’s drug-dealing friends to the lower layer of the city’s upper crust. As a result of waiting on the eclectic group of patrons, I was intimidated by no one, and felt that I was able to always be myself. Instead of kissing my customer’s asses for a tip, I provided great service and a smart mouth.

I was the same person for everyone, always. Eventually, most grew to like me. Those who didn’t just had to learn to live with my attitude, foul mouth, and sharp wit until they were done with their drink or meal.

I carried the glass of liquid filth up to the bar. “The Shock Top’s fucked up. Smells like ass.”

Gabe spun around. “Bad?”

“Smell it.” I handed him the glass.

He raised the glass to his nose. His eyes went into full squint and his mouth puckered. “Holy shit!”

“Yeah.”