I'm a cook. I love my job. The heat, the pace, the pressure - all in a good day's work. If you've ever worked in a restaurant, you know how it can be. Tempers run high, but at the end of the day, all is forgotten.
At my particular restaurant (and I'm sure many others), closing is left up to one or two servers and a cook. Those nights are often slow, and afford a lot of time for socializing. Recently, my favorite nights have been closing with Natalie. We both got hired at the same time, but she went home for the summer. Then, 3 months later, she came back and she got HOT. So of course, I spent most of my long closing nights sitting out in the bar with Natalie, just bullshitting.
"Hey gorgeous, come here often?" I asked with a grin as I slid onto the barstool in my usual spot. That greeting always got a smile and a giggle.
"Hey stud, tough night?" came Natalie's typical response.
This little exchange, our nightly ritual, was just the tip of the iceberg of our flirting. It drove the guys nuts that she flirted with me and hardly batted an eye at them. What they didn't know was that we'd known each before. We went to school together. We were never close, but when we started working together, we instantly bonded.
"So what are you doing after work?" I asked.
"I got wind of a great after party at Therapy."
"Yeah? Looking for company?"
"You up for it?"
"Of course."
We would often accompany each other out, even though our taste in venues was often different. We'd go to clubs and parties with each other and if we ever couldn't get rid of an undesirable companion, we were each other's loophole. It was a handy, if somewhat cliché setup. Therapy was one of our favorite bars. Being one of the only bars open after hours, from 2am to 6am on Fridays and Saturdays (well, technically Saturdays and Sundays), it attracted crowds from both the straight and gay clubs looking for more party time. It was a good mix for both of us.
"Cruising for guys tonight or are you just looking to chill?"
"I could stand to get some," Natalie said with a wink.
"Well if that's an offer, I'm sure it can be arranged," I winked back.
"I wish MJ could hear this....I'd love to see the look on his face," said Jill from across the bar, referring to the cook with the biggest crush on Natalie.
"That boy needs to get laid more than any of us, I think. One of these days I'll be nice and teach him how to pick up girls," I said as I sipped on my 'cape codder, no vodka' (a.k.a. cranberry juice...no drinking on the job).
"Yeah, 'cause that's working so well for you," laughed Natalie as I threw a pretzel at her.
"So I've had a dry spell. Picking up straight chicks isn't easy, ya know, and it's been a long time since you've been my wingman," I retorted, now dodging the pretzel I'd just thrown.
"Well, stud, start living up to your reputation!"
And on it went. This is how we passed the boring nights until closing. Then we bust ass for a half hour cleaning, and head out to whatever late night party we've chosen that week.
This week I was dressed in my tight low-rise Guess jeans and my "give blood play rugby" t-shirt, as if anyone needed further validation of my dyke-ness. I had a blazer in case it got chilly, but in mid-may it was unlikely. I'm a tall, thin, athletic type with very short red hair. I keep it that way mostly because of my job...it's a lot easier to keep it short enough so that I don't have to wear a hat. A lot cooler too. And I can cut it myself. I have 5 tattoos (well, 10 if you count all the Japanese words individually). I like to keep my body toned, and when I have time to work out I like to go rock climbing.
Natalie is pretty opposite. Long, chocolate brown hair and matching eyes, curves in all the right places, unbelievable cleavage. She wore her tight black serving pants (she says she makes more tips when her ass looks good) and a simple clingy red v-neck top. She could make simple looks like that look unbelievably sexy. It's hard not to stare - sometimes I still do, and then I get teased about it for days.
Jill, Natalie, and I walked through the parking lot together to where the employees park. At 1:30 in the morning, you can't be too careful. We said goodnight to Jill and Natalie and I headed to Therapy.
"Ready? You think you can keep up with me tonight?" asked Natalie as we walked into the club.
"Oh, I'll drink you under the table tonight. Better yet, I'll drink you into bed with me," I replied over the thump of the music.
"Oh really...we'll see about that..."
We walked up to the bar and I put my credit card on the counter as the bartender started on our usual - double southern comfort on the rocks and a bass for me, sambuca shot and a cosmo for Natalie. We started on our drinks and surveyed the room.
"Guy in the black blazer just gave you the twice-over," I said.
"Check out the hottie in the little school girl skirt...looks like she's wearing a garter belt," she said, knowing my weakness for garter belts.
"Mmmm...yeah. Straight. I tried that one 3 weeks ago."
"What about him? In the ripped jeans...oh what an ass!"
"Queer as a football bat honey."
"Damn. You know, you should just get a sex change. That would make my life so much easier."
"Hey, just because I don't have a penis doesn't mean I can't make your life easier."
"You keep trying....let's go dance." And off she went, pulling me on to the crowded floor. We had more drinks and danced for a while before she wandered off with the guy in the blazer. After 20 minutes I headed back to the bar, figuring that was it for the night...usually she'd have come for me already if she needed me. I had a couple more drinks when she suddenly appeared at my side again.
"Ok, so he's a loser. A very dense loser. Help." And she walked off. That was my cue, time to be the backup. I made my way over to the table they were at and she grabbed my hand.
"Oh, Jim. This is Ari, the girl I told you about."
