Chapter 10 VIOLET
WHENEVER THE STAFF got together, it seemed the possibility of the bar closing was the only thing we talked about. To say the mood was gloomy was an understatement. We were like a bunch of emo kids who'd been told the shop had sold out of black hair dye.
Carlie sprawled on the corner sofa. The way she put her boots on the cushions made me cringe a little inside but, with the amount of bodily fluids caked onto those cushions, a bit of boot dirt wouldn't hurt any.
She ashed her cigarette into a beer can sitting on the chipped coffee table in front of her. The club, of course, had become no smoking since those laws came in but Carlie said it was okay before opening. She also said it was okay in my office during her breaks. Mostly because she didn't want to stand outside in the heat. I was pretty sure that it wasn't okay but I never said anything.
We had about half an hour before opening so I poured myself a beer and grabbed a seat. I could manage getting around the club but couldn't spend too long on my sore ankle. I'd bandaged it up which limited my shoe-wearing options. It hurt when I walked but I was determined not to have crutches. I didn't want to look helpless.
"We're all getting the sack, nothing surer. He just wants us to stick around until it happens so he has staff. I'll be looking for another job as soon as I can." Mark thumped the table to emphasize his words. ‘I knew something like this would happen. Didn’t I say the other day that something like this would happen?”
He perched in a chair opposite Carlie with his foot on his knee. Even though he tried to sound angry, he had a smug smile on his face like he knew more about the situation than the rest of us. Which he didn't.
To be honest, Mark was a bit of a jerk and the sooner he left, the better. His smug face annoyed me.
"No free drinks, huh? That's half the reason I work here," Carlie said. "He's probably making it all up just to get us to work harder and drink less. I wouldn't be surprised."
Babs sat at the Galaga machine, picking at her nails and occasionally looking up and nodding.
"I can't look for another job. I was lucky to get the job here." She didn't explain further. She never did when she made comments like that but I had the impression she had a prison record. You can't just ask someone outright about that but it all fit.
“Trouble is really in trouble,” Mark added. Then chortled at his lame joke. No one else did.
Drew sat in the corner being broody. "We're doomed. We're all doomed. Look at us. We aren't the type of people who can just walk into another job. Even another bar job. We're a bunch of social misfits."
"Talk for yourself, Drew." Carlie swung around to glare at him. "I'm fine, just fine."
"Yeah, you say that but what are you going to do when you get a boss who grabs your bootie while you're working behind the bar? You'll swing at him and end up on charges. I've been to other bars. I know what goes on there. At least the Chuckster keeps his distance."
Carlie sighed. "It's a sad world when you have to be grateful for a boss who doesn't molest you."
Carlie had sure put on the right music to suit our mood. The CD skipped to the next song. Carlie was in a country music phase at the moment. Sad, soulful country.
"Yeah, and you get to be a right bitch to the customers without anyone caring.” Drew ignored Carlie’s glare. “If you worked in another bar, do you think you'd get away with that? Telling someone to go grow a real cock, that'd get you fired anywhere else. You'd have to put a smile in your voice when some suit comes in."
He’d obviously had too much of that Scotch if he was talking to Carlie like that.
"You're more screwed than me, Drew. If Chuck knew how many glasses you smashed in a night, he'd dock your pay so much, you'd end up in debt."
"That's definitely true facts." Drew dropped his head.
The other downstairs staff worked setting up but kept popping back to make sure they hadn't missed anything interesting. There was nothing interesting, though. None of us knew more than Chuck had told me but that didn't stop the speculation and rumors.
"And what about the regulars? It'd be a major life adjustment for us."
Jackson sat at the bar nursing a whiskey. I wasn't even sure why he was in before opening. He wasn't staff. It was like that corner of the bar would be too lonely without him. I'm sure he went home somewhere at the end of the night but it was hard to imagine him having a life outside of the bar. Hard to imagine for any of us.
I crossed my legs and took a sip of my drink. Words bubbled up inside me, wanting to get out.
"It's balls. The whole thing is balls and, as much as I think Chuck is a big jerk-face clown, I don't want this club to shut down. I don't want another job. I like it here." It was a special place for me and I'd fight to keep it alive. I'd fight until there was nothing left in me. Even though it would mean fighting my arse off to save Chuck, I'd do it if it saved the club. "I think we have to do everything within our power to save th
is place. We can't go down without a fight."
"Me too, babe," said Carlie. The fire in her eyes confirmed that she was with me.
"Count me in," said Babs. "I owe Chuck."
Drew nodded.