Page 12 of The Barkeep and the Bro

“And as for the responsible part, I was president of my fraternity. I’ve had to do inventory, just like you’re doing.” He pointed at the clipboard in my hand. “I can’t tell you the number of kids I had to cut off or outright boot from parties because they were drinking too much. We didn’t want to lose our insurance or get kicked off campus.”

We studied each other for a moment. He had made solid points, but I didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. There was still part of me that wasn’t on board. I couldn’t risk hiring another dud.

“I want to learn. And I will do a good job. The only thing I love more than partying is proving people wrong.” He puffed his chest out and cocked an eyebrow.

I gulped back a troublesome lump.

But then I stuck out my hand for him to shake.

“Welcome aboard. Don’t fuck this up.” I said, as much to myself as to him.

5

CHARLIE

Iwoke up with a new feeling—excitement for my job. Today was my first day as a bartender.

Technically, it was the first day of training to be a bartender, but why quibble over details?

I was going to be a bartender. They were like the ultimate party hosts.

Because I didn’t have to be at Stone’s Throw until eleven, I didn’t set an alarm. And I slept. No more having to crawl out of bed at five a.m. to catch a packed train to the office. I wasn’t one of those morning people who worked out and meditated before the sun rose. I was a night owl. The midnight oil was where I burned bright.

I thumped into the hall of the empty condo. If my memory of high school served me correctly, Amos was in third period by now; he said he’d stop by on his lunch break at ten-thirty to wish me luck. I forget how early school started. How I ever functioned before nine was beyond me.

“Charlie fucking Porterfield. You are the man.” I spoke loud and proud at myself in the bathroom mirror. No more having to speak quietly so Serena didn’t hear.

“You’re jacked. You’ve got a full head of hair. And according to multiple sources, you’re definitely packing heat.” I grabbed my bulge, swollen with morning wood.

There was no more hot-as-fuck girlfriend, and it was TBD if the new job would be primo, but I was staying positive.

I gave myself a grin and fist of solidarity in the mirror.

Another bonus of my new job: no suits! No loafers that scraped my heels! I threw on a button-down flannel, jeans, and my backward baseball hat. Amos had a wide variety of cereal for me to munch on for breakfast, but none of the fun kinds. I poured myself Cheerios and a big glass of orange juice and read articles online about how to succeed as a bartender while cartoons played on the TV. This was the life.

“Yo!” I threw a hand up to wave at Amos when he brushed through the door at ten-forty.

“I can’t stay long. I have a student who wants to discuss their latest quiz and why they got a C.”

“That’s bad? C is average.” I coasted through school with C grades. If only kids knew that your grades didn’t matter to anyone once you began working.

“This student would implode if they were called average. He and his parents shit their collective pants whenever he gets anything less than an A-minus.” Amos raced into his bedroom.

“They sound like a real buzzkill.”

“Eh, it’s all part of the job.” He came back out and handed me a small rectangular gift wrapped in glossy paper.

“Are you serious?” I hopped off the couch, touched by the gesture. I didn’t even need to open it. “Amos…”

He held up a hand. “Just a little something to celebrate your new job and to help you out.”

I ripped open the paper and found jelly shoe inserts. Um, okay. Not expecting that. “Thanks. Awesome, man.”

“I know it seems weird, but as someone who spends his whole day on his feet, those have been a godsend,” he said. “Your feet are going to ache. Those will provide generous support so you aren’t slumping over the bar.”

Damn, he really did think of everything. “Dude, this reallyisawesome. Thank you.”

I pulled him into a bro hug with a firm pat on the back.

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