“Everyone keeps telling me that, but how long did it take the other guys?”
“Let’s just say, not overnight. I promise.”
After letting go of Cosmo, Murphy grabbed an empty bottle from under the bar where the empties were kept. He handed it to Cosmo and said, “Flip it end over end and catch the neck.”
That was an easy one. Just about anyone could flip it once, and with the crotchety old Joe watching, they both witnessed him flipping the bottle and easily catching it. “In the recycling can right over there are all the tops. Find one that fits that whiskey bottle. I think they’re all black for these. Fill it with water and get the top on nice and tight. Go out back, into the alley. No one goes down that alley except for the distributors for the food and booze. Take a broom with you, because you will eventually drop the bottle. Sweep up all the glass when you do but practice. Over and over, flip it, catch it, toss it in the air, catch it that way. Then tonight, you’ll be working with the others, and you’ll see what they do.” He leaned in, whispering, “Hippy holds the record for breaking bottles back there. It took him twenty before he stopped. The sweeping helps deter you from letting the thing slip out of your fingers.”
For once, he got a beautiful, if a little reluctant, smile from the sweet-faced young man. “Got it. Thanks, Murphy.”
“Then catch a nap. It’s a lot of work, whether or not it seems like it.”
“I’m not much of a napper. In fact, sleep and I don’t get along that great,” he said, then took the capped bottle of water and left to head to the back.
Murphy watched him, ready to pick up the phone and call Tally before he remembered cell phones didn’t work so well in the basement.
“Another Murphy, and call that dad of yours, will ya?”
“Sure, Joe, on both counts,” he said, shaking the thoughts of Cosmo out of his head for the moment. After pouring the second beer and taking the sweaty money from Joe’s hand, he gave Mick a call and had him come to the bar.
Just then, Cosmo came in, glowing. “I did it!”
“The same one?”
Cosmo proudly held up the same bottle he’d taken outside with him. “Didn’t drop it once.”
Murphy spread his arms on the bar, leaning on them while grinning happily at his new bartender. “You’re a natural.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. Almost lost it a couple times, but I’ve got this part down, and some of the drinks. I might not totally suck.”
Joe barked a laugh and said, “You’re one of ‘em, ain’t ya?”
“Joe, I swear, I’m two seconds from throwing your wrinkled ass out of here.”
Again mumbling under his breath, Joe went back to his beer.
Murphy jerked his chin to the end of the bar, and Cosmo came around to join him after throwing a nasty look Joe’s way. Murphy confided in a whisper, “He’s one of my dad’s best friends or he wouldn’t be here. He starts with any racist or homophobic shit on your shifts, then throw his ass out.”
“I’ve dealt with worse.”
“I’m sure you have.”
Murphy showed him some tricks and tips, working over the register and showing him how to use the tablets when he ran tothe tables to take orders. “Sorry that you’re the new guy, and the new guy does the running.”
“It’s cool.”
“Good. Okay, now, when the guys all start their routines, watch them. They’ll start taking you downstairs to show you all they do on any weekend. They change things up, so don’t memorize the routines, just watch. Then you’ll know what things you can practice with the next couple of weeks.”
After Cosmo nodded, Murphy continued to introduce him to the many aspects of bartending, including the aftermath of heavy nights. “We do not put the bottles in the trash can,” he said, setting his hand on the rim of the big fifty-gallon trash can in the corner. “Not only do we recycle, but a bag filled with broken glass is no longer a useful bag. We will have a stack of empty boxes over here by the trash can for setting the empties into. Once they get full, you’ll also do that running. Outside, we have the big trash bin, and beside it there is another for just glass. We pay extra to have our trash and recycling picked up on Sunday mornings. After we close, all of us pitch in to make sure all the trash is out.”
“Got it.”
“We’ve got the veranda with the alley on the other side of the chain link, and let me tell you, on hot days, that chain-link fence doesn’t stop the smell.”
Cosmo laughed a little and remarked, “Gross.”
“Very.”
Cosmo looked nervous, so Murphy broke one of his own rules and poured the guy a double shot of Jameson. “I rarely okay any of you drinking before the night starts, but you could use this.”