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ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
He doesn’t even have the decency to say please. Then he’s gone again, probably to terrorize children or kick puppies. I slowly turn around and begin polishing the glassware for the second time, all while mentally chanting,you’re a broke bitch and you need this jobover and over again.
By the end of my eight-hour shift, I’ve polished every piece of glassware twice, listened to Samantha brag about being the best bartender no less than forty-three times, turned down advances from Trentthree times, and cleaned behind the rail until my hands cracked open. I go to grab my purse hanging in the bar closet when I hear Mr. Asshole’s voice. It sounds like he’s on the phone, but I can’t be sure. He’s just around the corner in the spot my coworkers hide in to hit their vapes.
“I need to see you, too,” he mumbles. “I haven’t tasted you in over two months, Stacy.” He pauses, and I assume he’s listening to the woman’s reply. “I’m not asking you on a date. I just want to suck on your clit until you come for me.”
I swear his voice drops another octave when the words leave his lips. My nipples harden, and I take a sharp breath. Fuck, it’s been so long since I had sex, it’s given the Grinch the ability to turn me on. My shoulder knocks into a stack of boxes and they fall over. Andreas’ head pops around the corner, an icy stare penetrating my soul.
He crosses the distance between us, and our chests almost touch. He’s so close to me, I can see the fire burning in his eyes. The scent of his minty breath hits me, and I stare at his lips, wondering what they feel like pressed against mine.
“You need to learn how to mind your goddamn business, Alana.” He injects malice into every syllable. I slowly blink, trying to decide if I should let him talk to me like that or attempt to put him in his fucking place because he desperately needs it.
The idea of kissing him vanishes from my head. After eight hours of some of the hardest labor of my life, I choose violence.
“Andreas, learn not to beg for pussy on the clock. It makes you look like a desperate cuck,” I purr in my sweetest voice. I close the distance between us and press my breasts flush against him. I see his pupils dilate and realize I’m playing with fire.
Fuuuuuuuck, I’m on my way to the unemployment line.
Andreas’ mouth gapes open, and his eyes narrow at me while he holds the phone away from his ear.
I decide I should probably hammer the final nail into my coffin by adding, “You know, it’s no wonder Stacy doesn’t want to fuck you anymore. I bet you’re a selfish one-pump chump. Go to hell.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I spin on my heels and flee to the closet. God, it was worth it to see the shocked look on that smug motherfucker’s face. I need a stiff drink and a relaxing bath.
My purse is hanging on a hook, so I grab it and rush toward the dining room. As I go to leave, Trent and Holly stop me.
“Do you wanna go have drinks and sushi?” Holly asks.
I’m hesitant at first, but Holly says, “You deserve it after all of that deck scrubbing today.”
A smile creeps onto my face. Stuffing my face full of sushi covered with eel sauce sounds amazing. “You know what? Fuck it, let’s go.”
We pile into our cars and head off to a nearby Japanese restaurant. I’m lucky to have coworkers who are cool. Starting over is a bitch, but starting over surrounded by assholes is even harder.
We arrive at the restaurant and enter together. A pleasant aroma of spicy teriyaki sauce wafts through the air, making my mouth water and my stomach growl. The décor is minimalistic yet soothing, with a touch of zen that helps me forget about Mr. Asshole and his antics from earlier in the day.
As soon as we’re seated, the server brings over a few bottles of sake, and we order pot stickers and edamame to start the meal off. We grab our glasses and cheers in celebration of finally being away from work. The sushi arrives shortly afterward: an abundance of fresh salmon sashimi pieces sitting atop each plate while vibrant vegetable rolls fill up every inch of space between them like colorful jewels on velvet fabric.
His mouth is full, but it doesn’t stop Trent from asking, “What are you guys doing for Labor Day?”
Holly shrugs, and I answer, “I considered going home to visit my family, but I’ll probably lay on the couch instead.”
Holly says, “I’m going to a concert that weekend. Might try to find a date afterward. I haven’t decided if I’ll ghost the dude I met online or not.”
Eventually, the conversation shifts and we laugh as we shit-talk Andreas and his sour attitude, which was much needed after today’s drama.
“I don’t care what his problem is, I’m just ready for the closure to be over so he can crawl back to the hole he came out of.” I wince when I recall calling him a cuck earlier. A lingering feeling tells me I’m going to regret that interaction.
Holly snorts and says, “I don’t think he’s that bad. I heard his dad retired, and he’s taking over all the franchises. That has to be pretty stressful. Jim said the dad has been pretty hands off, so there’s a lot of work to get done so the stores can run the way they’re supposed to.” She shoves a piece of sushi in her mouth, then continues, “I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt for now. Plus, he’s sexy. Dudes who look like that are never nice, unfortunately.”
Trent laughs, “Hey. I’m nice, and I’m that good-looking.”
I roll my eyes. “Trent, you’re nice. And you’re good-looking. But I wouldn’t say you’re exactly boyfriend material. You’ll sleep with anyone who isn’t missing their front teeth.”
He acts insulted, then says, “Hey, I don’t discriminate. Dental insurance is expensive. Don’t make me sound classist.”
Randomly, our phones ping at the same time. We pull them out and laugh when we see it’s the company app.
