Page 4 of Employing Patience

Thankfully, Mitch, our barback, is a champ when it comes to this. It’s not the first time he’s covered me walking out a drunk patron, and it won’t be the last. Ever since I started working here, it opened my eyes up to the number of creeps in the world. I have two younger sisters, one away at college and the other almost finished high school, so every time I see a drunk girl making a fool of herself, I think of them and how easily they could get hurt. I’ve taken it upon myself more than once to help them find a cab or to walk the sober ones to their cars once it’s dark.

I weave my way through the Saturday night crowds and find Marissa staring vacantly into space, with a table of college-aged guys watching her.

“Hey,” I say, and it takes a second for her eyes to focus on me.

“J-Joey.”

“You didn’t follow the rules again.”

“I only had three.”

I cock an eyebrow.

“Four. That’s it. I swear.”

“Well, if this is what four does to you, you might want to stick with one or two from now on. Come on, home time.”

She pouts prettily up at me, but it has zero effect. She’s gorgeous but a total mess. Not my style. I chuckle as I wrap an arm around her and steer her toward the doors.

“You can’t even walk properly,” I note.

“I don’t need to walk to get on my knees for you. When are you going to take me up on my offer?”

“Tell you what; offer when you’re sober, and I’ll think about it.” Thank goodness for me she forgets that every time.

She purrs, and I think it’s supposed to be sexy. “Deal.”

“Oookayyy.” We get outside, and I pull open the door of the first cab waiting. “In you go.”

“You could come with me, you know?”

“I know.”

“So why don’t you?”

“Because consent is what turns me on.” I push the door closed, and her window lowers.

She folds her arms over the door and rests her cheek on them. “You’re so pretty.”

“You too.”

“We’d make gorgeous babies.”

I laugh because that’s a new one. “Not something I’m thinking about, but thanks for the heads-up.”

Because fuck. Another person to rely on me? No, thank you. It’s bad enough that I’m covering for my sisters as much as I can, but the thought of a wife and kids on top of that? Hard no. I’m thirty-one, and every day that I get older, the less that image appeals to me.

I’m making good money here, but I don’t want to be a bartender forever. I don’t want to be the shithead who never finished high school and is resigned to hearing about everyone’s amazing life stories rather than living my own. I love it here, but sometimes I want more.

The memory of the application stashed away in my room at home crops up again, and this time, I give it more than a second of thought.

Amelia is away at college, and Hannah is going into her senior year of high school—would it be totally mad to try and get my high school diploma or GED before my baby sister graduates?

Like every other time I’ve asked myself that question, a million and one excuses pop up.

It’s not the right time.

I need to be working.

---