Page 15 of The Barkeep and the Bro

I backed out of his way as he lumbered to the bar. “What are those?”

“Practice for today. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to train a newbie.” There was the slightest crack of a smile through his stoic, borderline grumpy veneer, like maybe, on some tiny level, he didn’t hate this. “You ready to get started?”

“Hell, yeah, Boss.” I stood up tall. I was going to be the best bartender he ever hired.

6

MITCH

Idid not want to be spending my morning teaching someone how to bartend. My never-ending to-do list wanted a word. But I couldn’t say no to that puppy dog enthusiasm of his. I promised I’d give him a shot; we’d see how he did with following instructions.

I pointed out where everything was behind the bar. Just because people went to bars didn’t mean they knew shit about how they operated. I filled the empty bottles with water and stuck them in the well for today’s practice.

I took a seat on a stool. Charlie looked good behind the bar. He fit.

“What’ll you have?” he asked with that cocky smile that brimmed with unearned confidence.

How hard did I want to be? I wanted this to be fun for me, too.

“Pour me a pint of Sun Crusher.”

“You got it.” He clapped his hands together, but his confidence slipped as he searched for the glasses. “One Sun Crusher coming up.” He searched under the bar. “Sun Crusher is a great brew.”

I cleared my throat. “Behind you.”

He spun around.

“To the left.”

“Thank you, sir.” Charlie fumbled a glass in his hands. I held my breath, praying he didn’t drop it. Sending my new bartender to the ER on day one would not be an auspicious start.

Charlie ran his finger along the row of draft nozzles, each one with a crazy design for the draft. He found the Sun Crusher. “So, what brings you in today?”

“Uhh…” I laughed a little that he was really trying to play-act with the conversation. “Just traveling through.”

“Where you headed?” Charlie pulled the Sun Crusher handle. He angled the glass so it wouldn’t catch too much foam, something he probably saw other bartenders do. Or from years of manning a keg.

“Albany.”

“I went to college up there. Beautiful city. You should check out the Helderberg-Hudson Rail Trail. It used to be train tracks, and now it’s perfect for biking.”

He had the schmoozing down. I’d give him that.

Foam came out, but not much else. Charlie pulled the handle again, no dice. “Albany gets a bad rap, especially in the winter, but there are lovely parts to it.”

“Where’s my drink?” I asked with agitation.

He bit his lip and kept pulling the handle. He looked underneath the bar. “Uh-oh, looks like we’re out.”

“What do you mean? There’s something wrong?”

“Let me go into the back and see if there’s another keg to connect to.” He maintained his calm smile, my fake frustration rolling off his back.

“Am I right?” he asked, breaking character.

“Correct. We are out of Sun Crusher. I thought that would trip you up.”

“I’ve pumped enough kegs to know when the beer is running low. My fratboy knowledge is paying off. Where do you keep the extras?”

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