Page 6 of Wasted Memories
I guess I shouldn’t hate my job because aside from my boss, I had a good time working there. I just wished it offered more than serving drinks, cleaning tables, and taking orders. The tips were good, which made up for it. The more skin you showed, the less clothing you wore, the better the tips would be.
I had my regulars on the weekends: the truck drivers home from their long days on the road; the fishermen who docked for the weekend; the women enjoying the two days off from their office jobs. We had more tourists pop through on the weekdays. This town wasn’t a final destination in most people's vacations. It was a fun pit stop on their way to their weekend destination.
Sometimes I wondered if that was why my dad left, Oldport being so boring and all.
My mother didn’t teach me much growing up, but she did engrave in my head that in order to be recognized in this world, you had to make memorable first impressions. Every person I met, every place I went, I had to stand out. If I didn’t, what was the point? To blend in? I didn't know about anyone else, but I didn’t meet too many people who got a lot out of life by just blending in.
The cool breeze blew my long ponytail over my shoulder, stray hairs coming loose in the wind and brushing across my face.
I wanted to live a life worth remembering. I had to, because my childhood was something to forget. My mother’s world revolved around Ross and making sure he had everything he needed to be successful in life.
I didn’t get the same treatment. Ross could sleep in until noon, lull around all day in his pajamas, then stay up playing video games until the sun began to rise. She’d claim she was letting him enjoy his childhood because life only got harder as you got older. She bought him anything he asked for, cooked him whatever he felt like for dinner.
The opposite was for me. I did chores to earn an allowance, ate whatever was on my plate, and imagined a life where my dad was here. I always dreamed that one day, he’d come back. He’d turn my mom around and we’d all live happily ever after.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get happy ever afters. I got told I needed to stop dressing like a boy, to act like a lady, to smile sweetly even if my day sucked. So far, the world had chewed me up and spit me out, but it made me the person I am today. I’d be damned if I let anyone look at me the way my mother looked at me every day growing up.
I didn’t just dress up for Jett or the men around town. I put effort into my image because confidence exudes purpose. If I looked like I had my shit together, people would believe it and not think twice.
In reality, I had no idea what I was doing aside from being a waitress and a girlfriend.
Walking through the back door into the break room of The Tavern, I quickly pulled my jacket off and shoved it in my locker, grabbing my apron to tie it around my waist.
“Why are you here? You’re off today,” Elijah asked as he walked through the dark hallway just as I was about to head to the floor.
“Jessica asked me to cover her shift, said she had an emergency,” I explained. I was out of breath from jogging to get here.
“Well, you’re late to her shift.” He walked by me, his shoulder slamming into mine in the narrow hallway. I stopped walking and took a deep breath, trying to relax the tension that seeped through my bones.
If I let it bother me, I’d lose my job. Not that I really needed this job for the money, but to keep my sanity, I let it go.
I headed out to the floor where the dark leather booths lined the wall along the windows, the hum of conversation filling the air. Seeing that Jessica’s section was already filled with the morning rush, I grabbed a pitcher of water and filled glasses, settling into the routine I knew so well.
***
I had twenty minutes left of Jessica’s shift when Elijah asked me to work a double. Apparently, a majority of my coworkers had emergencies on a Saturday.
What a coincidence.
I agreed to stay even though my feet had started throbbing hours ago. I shot Jett a text to let him know I’d picked up a shift since I hadn’t had time to text him on my way here, and explained I was now working a double.
About seven hours later, I finally got the chance to check my phone.
Jett 9:30pm:Let me know when you get off so I can pick you up.
Heading back out to the floor after the quickest bathroom break of my life, I saw the last person I wanted to see here. The tall drink of water from the bar last night.
He was standing there with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his dark wash jeans, acting casual as if every female with half a brain wasn’t staring straight at him.
He was wearing the same duck brown jacket, half zipped to reveal a black t-shirt that hugged his broad chest. His physique was something to admire, even under all those layers of clothing.
What was I going on about? I shouldn’t be standing here discreetly eye-fucking a man that got under my skin for absolutely no reason. Though, I was only noticing features that stood out to the common eye. Like the way he was now staring directly at me.
Snapping out of it, I grabbed the tray of drinks waiting for me at the bar, turning directly into my coworker, Rita, who was making her way around the corner with a handful of dirty plates.
The drinks slid as I maneuvered the tray to keep them from falling
“Something distracting you, Em?” Rita called behind her, rushing off to the kitchen, as I worked to regain my usually perfect balance.
