Grace for Drowning

"I did? Oh shit." I laughed as the memory returned. "I did! I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "No big deal. Comes with the territory. Once you've been thrown up on three times in one night, a little vodka doesn't seem so bad."

I scrunched up my nose. "Lovely. I can't wait to join that club."

"Fingers crossed you won't have to. That's my job, get to them before they lose their dinner."

"How heroic."

His eyes crinkled in amusement, but he said nothing.

The silence stretched between us, and that feeling of unease returned. Joy had been right: intense was the perfect word for him. There was something more, though. When he looked at me, it felt like he was searching for something. I didn't know what to make of it.

Someone approached the bar a few feet away, and I saw my opening. "I should get back to it," I said, gesturing to the customer. Logan nodded, although he lingered in place for a few moments before returning to his post.

Thankfully, the rest of the night was fairly tame. Everyone who approached the bar was coherent and respectful, and nobody gave Logan any cause to wade back into the fray. But despite him being back near the door, I felt his presence as though he were standing right behind me. He filled the room, and I found myself constantly stealing glances at him just to reassure myself he'd stayed put. My mind wandered back to that evening outside. Most of it was still a blur, but I got the sense that there was something important I was forgetting.

*****

As midnight came and went, the bar gradually emptied out. New York may be the most famous "city that never sleeps," but anyone who has laid eyes on the epileptic neon of the Vegas Strip at three in the morning knows it's not the only one. Vegas has a nightlife that's all its own. In most other cities, the bar clientele in the weeknight small hours is fairly predictable; cab drivers, stock traders, shift workers, lawyers looking for a little liquid numbness to soothe their corporate guilt. Here though, things are different. In a city that is one giant twenty-four hour performance, you get a much more eclectic group. Dancers, cocktail waitresses, card dealers, professional gamblers — these are the people that haunt Vegas once the rest of the city retires.

Some things remain the same though. Working as a chef, I was intimately familiar with the rhythm of the world after most people were tucked up in bed. There always comes a time — usually an hour or two after midnight — when something in the air changes, a kind of unspoken mutual agreement that you've now reached the reflective part of the night. Scotch and gin replace beer and cocktails, and everything seems to get just a little heavier, a little more downbeat. It's the sort of time when mid-life crises are born. Charlie's reached that point pretty soon after the clock struck one. By then we were technically shut, but it was apparently a "soft close," which meant the regulars could hang and finish their drinks as long as they didn't disturb the clean-up. Charlie and the others had left a little while back, leaving Joy and I to handle close. Logan had disappeared at some point too. I think I was relieved by that.

This part of the job was slightly more familiar. Loading dishwashers, storing leftovers, melting sinks full of ice; it was very similar to cleaning a commercial kitchen.

Once we'd finished out back, we moved to the front. "So, that wasn't so bad, huh?" Joy asked, tossing me a cloth and nodding at the bar-top.

"Drunk grabby guys aside, I guess not," I replied.

She smiled sympathetically. "Hey, we've all been there. Security is pretty quick at making sure that stuff doesn't happen. I'll tell you though, get people drunk enough, and they all turn into animals. You wouldn't believe the stuff you see if you spend enough time in this gig." She leaned in closer and lowered her voice. "Two weeks ago, there was a couple sitting at that table in the corner. At first they seemed to be minding their own business, but eventually I noticed them acting kind of odd. The guy started jiggling around like he was having some kind of prolonged mini-seizure, while the woman sat perfectly still next to him with her hands below the table just staring ahead at the wall."

The implication was not lost on me. My eyes widened. "No way. In the middle of the bar?"

She nodded. "And this was a Friday night so we're talking full house."

"Jesus."

She grinned. "Wait, it gets better. So, once I worked out what was happening, I decided to wander over there and spoil the mood a little. I'm all for free love and what not, but we have to clean up enough grossness without adding some random guy's spunk to the equation. Anyway, I rocked up at the table and began making conversation, just asking them all sorts of questions, and generally making it abundantly clear that I knew what was up. The woman looked mortified and just got up and left, but you know what the guy said? 'Bitch, I was almost done.'"

We both burst out laughing.

"Jesus Christ," I said.

"I know, right? You can't make this stuff up. Anyway, the moral of the story is, you certainly won't be bored here, but you need to be prepared for anything."

"I'll keep that in mind."

The last of the patrons gave us a nod then disappeared through the door, leaving Joy and I alone. She moved out onto the floor and began to wipe down tables.

"Speaking of being prepared for anything," she said, glancing over at me with a twinkle in her eyes, "Logan certainly seemed to be taking an interest in you. Perhaps you do have something to worry about."

I felt a tingle of discomfort. "Wasn't that just him doing his job?"

She laughed. "Kicking the guy out, sure, but hanging around to chat afterwards? That's not his style at all. A man of few words, that one. Not that he really needs them. Women practically throw themselves at him. He could be mute and I bet he'd still get laid whenever he wanted."

"Bit of a manwhore is he?"

"Used to be, but he seems to have shut up shop recently. He had a string of girlfriends back when I was just starting here, including one or two of the other bar girls, but they all ended messily. I haven't seen him with anyone in the last year."