Page 26 of I Won't Be In On Monday

"It'll be fun, I think." Skye says. "Shall we go? Do you have anything else to do?"

"Well, I was thinking after this drink I would..." I pause. "You know what? Let's do it. I mean, I might suck, but it's not like I know anyone there, right?"

"Exactly." Lila giggles. "And you know what? I'll say a poem, too.”

“You will?” I ask in surprise.

“I mean, let’s all three of us perform. We all have to sign up.”

Skye makes a face. “I don’t want to. I don’t have a poetic bone in my body.”

“We’re actresses.” Lila stares at her. “We can fake something.”

“True,” Skye says, tossing her red hair. “Fine. Shall we go?”

“Maybe after one more drink,” I say. “Or two. Do you guys know where we’re going?”

“I know just the place.” Lila grins.

Four drinks and two shots later, we walk into Arkansas Slow Brewery, and a crowd of hipsters with dreadlocks, plaid shirts, and hand-sewn clothes surrounds us. I feel totally out of my element, yet I’m glad to be experiencing something new.

"Welcome," the doorman nods as he gazes at us. "Can I see your IDs, please? It's going to be a five-dollar cover."

"This is where you have the poetry slam, right?" Lila asks as she pulls out her ID.

"Yeah, ma'am. Sign-ups will be at the bar. We'll start in about fifteen minutes."

"Great. All three of us are going to sign up."

He looks at her and then at Skye and then at me. "Sounds good. That's going to be fifteen dollars, please."

"I'll pay for everyone," Lila says, pulling out a fifty. "Keep the change." He stares at her and just nods.

"He could've said thank you," I whisper as we head inside, and Lila shrugs.

"He's probably upset we didn't give him more money."

"Really?" I ask.

"I don't know." She giggles. "But this is New York City, so I would believe anything."

"Yeah, true." I look around in surprise to see how packed it is. There is a group of younger males with long hair and Mohawks talking about Kant’s philosophy, and I just stare at a grinningLila. “I feel so out of my element,” I admit. “What will I even talk about?”

“Remington.” She grins. “No one’s going to know that you’re talking about your boss.”

“I guess,” I say. “But maybe I won’t do a poem about Remington. I feel kind of weird talking about him in a public space like this. I mean, between us, it’s fine, but...”

“Stop stressing, Juniper,” Skye says. “It’s cool. I mean, Kingston knows I complain about him all the time.”

“Yeah, and so does Max,” Lila giggles. “They think it’s funny.”

“I suppose they would think it’s funny because they love you. However, Remington and I are very much employer and employee, and there is no sexual chemistry or love there. If he ever finds out I’m talking shit about him, I’m fired, and I kind of need this job right now.”

“No one’s going to tell him. I’m not going to tell him,” Skye says. “Are you going to tell him, Lila?”

“Never. Come on, let’s sign up.” We all sign up and grab pear martinis and find seats. The smell of weed fills my nostrils, and I feel like I'm beginning to get a contact high, though my nerves are fraught when I hear a woman with bright blue hair and several nose rings calling my name. I stand up slowly, heart racing, and head towards her.

"Let's welcome Ms. Juniper to the stage," she says with a grin. "You've got five minutes. When you see the light blinking at the back, that's your twenty-second warning. Got it?"

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