Page 7 of Key West Promises

"The inventor of electricity was…" the host began.

"JIMMY BUFFETT!" came the enthusiastic response.

"That's not even close," the host muttered into his microphone.

The door chimed, and Leah looked up to see Kaitlyn entering with her camera ready. "Oh no."

"Oh yes!" Kaitlyn beamed, already framing a shot. "This is perfect! Raw, authentic Key West nightlife! My followers will love?—"

She was cut off by a splash as one of Linda's bridesmaids accidentally backed into Tess, sending a tray of rainbow-colored shots in all directions. Tess managed to stay upright but now sparkled with what appeared to be several different flavors of vodka.

"I'm so sorry!" the bridesmaid gasped. "But wait…this is actually a great look for you. Very island chic!"

Connie appeared with a towel, barely concealing her amusement. "Welcome to Margarita Max's," she said dryly. "Where every night is an adventure, and somebody always ends up wearing the drinks instead of drinking them."

"The first person to walk on the moon was…" the host tried again.

"JIMMY BUFFETT!"

"I'm not even sure how to respond to that," the host said, looking at his cards in despair.

Kaitlyn had positioned herself in a corner, documenting everything. "This is amazing! The authentic struggle of two women finding their way in paradise! I'm thinking of calling it 'From Corporate to Cocktails: A Key West Journey.'"

"If you post any of this," Leah warned, wiping what she hoped was just pineapple juice from her arm, "we'll tell your mother where you are."

Kaitlyn lowered her camera slightly. "You wouldn't."

"Try me," Leah said, just as Linda's party decided to start an impromptu conga line through the bar.

"Okay, final question," the trivia host announced, sounding relieved. "What is the chemical formula for water?"

"TEQUILA!"

"That's…actually more creative than Margaritaville," the host conceded. "Still wrong, but I appreciate the effort."

By the end of their shift, Tess had mastered the art of dodge-serving (a necessary skill when half the customers were doing the Macarena), Leah had learned seventeen different ways to say "No, we don't have Jimmy Buffett's private phone number, and besides, he’s dead," and Kaitlyn had enough material for a full documentary series.

"See?" Tess said as they counted their tips. "This wasn't so bad!"

"You're still sparkling from the glitter in those bachelorette party shots," Leah pointed out.

"I know! Free body glitter. This job has benefits we never even considered."

Connie shook her head. "You two might actually survive here. After a few weeks, you should be able to work the eleven to four shift. Just remember—tomorrow is Wannabe Wednesday. The karaoke machines have seen things you can't unsee."

"Can I come document that too?" Kaitlyn asked hopefully.

"NO!" all three women responded in unison.

Kaitlyn shrugged. “Fine. I’m headed out to check out more on Duval Street. I saw there’s a haunted trolley ride. I might do that. Can I have the key to your place?”

Leah grabbed her purse and found her keys. Throwing them to Kaitlyn she yelled, “Catch! Have fun. We’ll most likely be in bed by the time you come home.”

“I’m starving. I know it’s late but my stomach has been begging for food the last hour. Do you mind if we stay and eat an appetizer before heading home?” Tess asked.

“Sounds good to me. Let’s sit in the corner out of the way though. I don’t want anyone thinking we’re working.”

They had fried conch fritters and twice-baked potatoes and when Leah asked for the bill, Connie refused their money. “You earned those appetizers, but next time come to work with a full belly.”

---