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Usually when the nights get busier, Shayne works the floor more than behind the bar but today she’ll stay at the bar so I can work on manager-type duties before I head out for the day.
It's three now and I have all of my tasks completed. I can hear the growing crowd in the pub and can hear the cook singing along to his small radio, but before I can leave, I need the three o’clock bartender to clock in and I haven’t seen him yet.
I head out of the office and check on the Pete—he’s being kept busy with wings and fries today, but that’s pretty normal for this time of day—before walking through the swinging door into the real hustle and bustle of O’Gallaghers. I’m not at all surprised to see a few high tops with customers, and that nearly every seat at the bar is taken. Looks like a normal Thursday night here. It’s only going to get busier.
We’re also heading into St. Patrick’s Day weekend and the O’Gallaghers, being second generation Irish-Americans, do the holiday big.
“Hey, anyone see Travis?” I ask as both Shayne and Ben work on drinks and getting orders out. Ben is mostly running the floor because Shayne is the next shift lead.
“Nope, but can’t say I’m surprised,” Shayne mumbles, pouring a glass of Guinness from tap. She places the glass on a serving tray that Ben won’t use, but it keeps things organized.
“What do you mean by that?” A customer at the end of the bar holds up two fingers before she can answer, and I move to help him.
“Whiskey double,” he says, pushing his shot glass toward me. “Redbreast 15.”
“Sure thing.” I take his used shot glass and put it in the sink, before pouring him a double of the 15-year old aged whiskey. It’s not the cheapest in the pub, but judging by the man’s Gucci sports jacket, the man doesn’t care.
Briefly I wonder if he asked for it, or if Shayne upsold him.
I’m leaning in the Shayne angle.
After I serve the guy, I walk back to the blonde with the forearm tattoo. Part of me thinks that random men come into the bar and listen to her because she looks like a badass, but if you ask me, she’s a marshmallow. When Ben trapped his first two cats, she said she’d help bring them to the vet—and then ended up keeping both.
Not that keeping two cats makes her a softy but I think she has a hard front on purpose. What that purpose is, that I don’t know.
“So, Travis?” I start to rinse glasses and put them in the underbar glasswasher.
“Yeah, some things he was saying his last shift led me to believe he wasn’t going to show up this weekend. Like, he was going to be going out and enjoying the festivities.”
I can’t help but sigh. It’s one of the craziest weekends we’ll have at O’Gallaghers and the last thing we need is a new hire peacing out. “Let me go call him. You’re good? Ben’s here until four and then Saint comes in.”
“I’m good. Go.”
Leaving her to the front, I push back into the back of house. “You good?” I ask Pete, walking past him.
“Good. Chris comes in at five, yeah?”
“I believe so. I think both Chris and Hank.”
“Oh. Yeah. You’re right. Hank is prepping for the weekend. You think it’s cool if I take my lunch when they get here?”
“I don’t see a problem with that but I’ll run it past Shayne in a minute. I’m sure she’ll be fine with it.”
Once in the office, I pull up the staff list on the office computer and find Travis’s information, dialing his number on the business phone. It rings in my ear five times before moving into his voice mail. “Hey, it’s Jake,” I tell the machine, even though based on Shayne’s testimony, the effort is futile. “You’re on the schedule for three. Just wondering if you’re on your way. Give us a call. Thanks.” Shaking my head, I press the hook-switch instead of putting the receiver back in the base, then dial Conor’s number by memory.
“This is Conor,” he answers on the second ring.
“Hey, it’s Jake. Travis was supposed to come in at three and hasn’t. I called him, no answer. Shayne said that she’s not surprised he no-showed. Normally, I’d call someone else in, but I know this weekend is all-hands-on-deck and I’m pretty sure almost everyone is bordering overtime.”
My boss groans on the other end and I hear his mumbled “shit” beneath his breath. “Yeah. Fuck. Shit.” So much for the mumbled one, I think with a chuckle. “All right, um... Turn down the T.V. for a second, Aiden. Please.” His tone changes between talking to his oldest, and talking to me. Not many expect the bearded, tattooed man to be a softy with his family. “Fuck.Of all days for Brenna and Stone to be in freaking Arizona.” Brenna is Conor’s sister, and she and her husband, Stone—former bartender now part of the overall business team—are in Arizona with their kids visiting the third O’Gallagher, Rory, andhiswife and kids. “Look, I’ll come in, but is there any way you can stay until I get there? Mia’s on day three of the flu, and I’m pretty sure the girls are down with it now too. It’s been hell here but I can’t get them into the pediatrician until tomorrow. Thank fuck they have morning open clinic hours because we’re going to be swamped this weekend. Let me see if I can send Aiden somewhere for the night and get the estrogen in the house settled.” It sounds like the man is stressed. I don’t blame him. “It might be seven, eight before I get there though. I don’t really want Mia out of bed and dealing with the girls. She damn near passed out walking down the stairs this morning. But fuck, I know that’s a long fucking day for you. You’re not on the schedule tomorrow, right?”
“I’m not. It’s not a big deal, I’m happy to stick around.”
“Thank you. I fucking knew that kid was no good, but I went against my better judgement. All right. I’ll try calling him but I’m sure I’ll get the same response you did. Thanks, Jake.”
I walk back to update Shayne, also giving her the heads up that Pete needs a lunch when the other two cooks come in. With that, I hand over the managerial duties to her. I’m more than happy doing grunt work for the next few hours.
As predicted, the crowd starts to pick up as five rolls around. I like it busy, especially on hour seven of my day. While Ben’s now clocked out, it’s Shayne, Saint, Colie, and myself on the floor.
