Holiday times are good for bar staff. People gathering together, enjoying folks they haven't seen in a while, making new acquaintances, just generally being friendly, and tipping as they go.
My years as a bartender taught me that from Thanksgiving to New Years was my best chance for big cups. And I tried to cover every shift available.
So it was in mid-December. Even though it was a weeknight, companies were holding Christmas parties, so you never knew when the door would open and a group of revelers would swarm in.
The current group was an insurance company who had a nice dinner and drinks party at a nearby restaurant. Apparently, drinks were flowing well, until it ended too soon for many. At that point, about a dozen showed up at my place.
After the initial rush, I was able to converse with a few. They were mostly family people, there without spouses, and some of the flirting between coworkers was obvious, even to me, a stranger. But one couple who sat at the bar seemed unusual.
He was doting, seeming to crowd her as she tried to chat with others. He was 50, balding, over-weight, sort of a slob.
She was alive. I mean, bubbly, talkative, friendly, attractive, well-dressed. The opposite of him.
He made sure to order her drinks, feeding the jukebox for her to play songs, and although she was polite, I caught her roll her eyes a few times when he got too close.
She made sure to ask my name and try to include me as part of the party, rather than a servant, even buying me a drink. She introduced herself as Max and he was Hank. He grunted hello.
"Max, a great name," I smiled, flirting a bit, always working the cup. Sometimes older women enjoyed teasing younger guys, and she seemed like the type.
"It's Maxine, glad you like it."
"It's unique."
"Like me!" she and her entourage all laughed, except Hank.
In a tight red dress, Max had a full head of black hair, cut into a Pageboy. The hair circled her pretty face, and her makeup seemed fresh. Bright white teeth and large hoop earrings completed the look. Professional, yet sexy, you knew she was the life of the party.
I turned the sound up and people began dancing, all the women shaking their booties, laughing, while a few guys took the opportunity for a touch or a rub, and a few got giggles in response, from what I could see. Except Hank. He sat, sipping, brooding.
When he finally went to the men's room, Max smiled at me, leaned in. "Sorry about Mr Cranky. I hope he's not not too much of a bother."
"Not for me at all, but, if you don't mind me saying, I don't see the two of you together."
She smiled weakly. "We broke up a a while ago. I didn't know he was coming tonight."
"Well, if he's bothering you..."
"Oh, no, nothing like that. He just mopes around depressing the rest of us. He's harmless."
"Well, just so you know..."
She patted my hand and mouthed the words, "Thank you" and her red lips looked moist and tasty, like fresh cherries. I smiled and made note that this would not be the last I saw of Max.
The rest of the night passed with glances and smiles on both sides. I made a point of buying them both a drink, so he couldn't get jealous.
