I was zoning…zoning hard. Twirling my hair with the fingers of my right hand I glanced down at the paper in front of me expelling a long sigh. Two lousy words stared back at me:
bifurcated me
I smelled her cloying scent moments before she leaned over my shoulder. A sheath of black curly hair tumbled across my skin as she peered down at the sheet of paper.
“Girl, what have I told you about using them fancy words?” Jasmine questioned with a shake of her head. I kept quiet, knowing there was more disdain coming. “You don’t live that little rich girl life anymore.” She rolled her eyes at me for emphasis.
“Trust me. I know that, Jasmine.” I stated. “It’s just a word I was going to use in a poem…that’s all.” I smiled a whimsical smile. Writing poetry was my passion. It was my “get out of hell free” card.
Jasmine wrapped her arms around me enveloping in me a huge hug. She kissed the top of my head, “This is your life now baby girl. You’re just gonna have to deal with it!” Jasmine sashayed away in her black heels, naked. That girl was stark raving mad, but she was my girl. I shook my head chuckling.
“Vanilla,” Doris’s smoke damaged voice called out.
“Yes ma’m?”
“You better you get your pretty little butt out here.”
I followed her towards the main floor of the club. I picked up momentum as I heard shattering glass. Shoving the louvered doors open I ground to a halt.
Thomas’s face was beet red as a stream of vulgarity exploded out of his mouth. Suddenly he went stone cold silent. My eyes were drawn to the petite buxom blonde standing behind the bar. I gasped when I saw the bottle she was holding by its neck.
“Call me bitch one more time.” Daisy dared Thomas. “And your precious little bottle of Scotch is hitting the floor.” She pretended that the bottle slipped from her grasp catching it at the last second. Thomas’ face went ghost white.
“That’s a $3000 bottle of Scotch!”
“Uh…DUH…I am a bartender!”
Thomas began to beg Daisy to put the bottle down. I’m the worst kind of awful, really I am, because I found the entire situation quite comical.
A square of light appeared on the far side of the bar as someone walked in the club. All I could see was an outline of a woman obliviously walking into the midst of a scene from a Tarantino movie.
“Give me my last paycheck and…” Daisy crunched her way across the broken glass covering the bar floor, “You will get your precious Scotch.”
Thomas walked to the cash register. He punched the code to open up the money drawer. Daisy told him to lay the money on the bar counter closest to the door. She made him step back. Tossing me a silent apology she edged her way to the door passing by the woman. Daisy thrust the bottle of Scotch into the woman’s hands and left the building. I knew that was the last we would see of her.
I headed over to the bar to start sweeping up all the broken glass. As I drew closer my eyes widened – it was the woman from the CyberCafe. With a subtle shake of her head she told me not to let on that I knew her.
I began sweeping as Thomas asked her what the she wanted. She told him she wanted a job. He asked her if she’d ever bartended before. She said “No,” but she was a fast learner. He hired her telling her to clean up the mess because we opened in 30 minutes. She blew out a puff of breath muttering something about not having to strip.
“Oh, don’t think you’re not going to have to wiggle that arse.” I promised with a chuckle. “That comes next, trust me!”
I couldn’t help but laugh at her expression as she looked at the two women gyrating around the poles on stage wearing only pasties, thongs, and high heels.
