That Wedding

My phone buzzes. I look down at it.

Phillipbaby<3  How's the inspiration?

Me:  Very inspirational.

Phillipbaby<3  Nick told me you're at Keggers doing shots with Bradley. That you've had quite a few shots already.

Me:  Tattletale. Did he also tell you Bradley is getting his doctorate in philosophy?

Phillipbaby<3  Uh, no.

Me:  Like I said. It's inspirational. Or maybe philosophicalish.

Phillipbaby<3  I don't think that's a word. So you're getting drunk?

Me:  Uh. Not yet, no. I don't think so.

Phillipbaby<3  Nick says Bradley says you're staying with either him or Nick tonight.

Me:  He thinks I'm thinking about getting drunk. The i

Phillipbaby<3  Do you want to go home with Bradley?

Me:  No. I'm pretty sure.

Phillipbaby<3  Pretty sure? Or FOR sure?

Me:  I really haven't thought about it yet, um, let me think...

Phillipbaby<3  Okay...

I don't get to respond to Phillip because I was messing around with the philosopher's hand, trying to steal a bowl of pretzels, and my phone sorta went flying out of my hand and into the bartender's sink full of soapy water.

Bradley quickly fishes it out of the sink.

Shit.

He takes the battery out, lays it on a bar towel, dries it off, runs in the back, and comes back with a ziplock baggie. He tells me to run across the street to the Chinese restaurant and have them put rice in it for me.

I do, and proudly come back with a bag of fried rice. I'm expertly eating it with chopsticks.

Kinda.

Bradley looks jealous, so I try to feed him some rice.

He shakes his head at me. "You're so blonde. My waitress called in sick, and her replacement can't be here for a few hours, so come stand behind the bar and look pretty. If someone comes in, just pour them a beer." He goes in back, grabs another baggie, and runs across the street.

I eat my rice, and since no one comes in, I pour myself a beer and am drinking it when two cute boys come sit up at the bar.

"Beer?" I ask, like the professional that I now am.

"Pitcher," Cutie One says. "Are you new?"

"No, I'm old. I've been a regular at this bar for years."

"Oh, we meant are you the new bartender?"

"No, I'm just eating rice and drinking."

I pour them a pitcher and have Cutie One come get it from behind the bar, along with some glasses cuz I'm kinda still eating. I finish my rice and am just doing a shot with the cuties when Bradley jogs back in.

"Oh, more rice for me?"

"Did you just do another shot? You need to stop drinking."

I shake my head. "Just trying to do my job."

Cutie Two says, "She's really good at her job." Then he grins lasciviously at me.

Cutie One says, "Yeah, but she really should have on something sexier."

Bradley is messing with my phone and the bag of rice. We all stop and watch. He puts my phone in the baggy full of uncooked rice and zips it up.

Cutie One says, "Dude, that doesn't work."

But Cutie Two disagrees, "Yeah, it does. Well, it worked for me. What happened to your phone?"

Bradley replies, "It's her phone, and I'm pretty sure it could tell the way the night is headed and tried to commit suicide." He takes the rice baggie over to the booth, drops it in my purse, and walks back behind the bar.

"Hey, maybe I should work tonight. Help you out."

Bradley looks at me. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Oh, come on. I've always wanted to wear one of the server's outfits. They're so cute! It'll be just like Halloween."

"You remember last time you spent Halloween here?"

"Uh, mostly."

"Hmmm. I clearly remember your naughty little nurse's outfit and how good it looked on my bedroom floor."

Oh my.

The cuties are rapt with attention.

I change the subject. "So, is that a yes? Can I go change?"

He laughs. "Sure, why the hell not. Ought to provide us with some entertainment."

I go in back and change into the server's outfit. Little black spandex shorts and a black and white referee shirt that's cut quite low in front and doesn't even attempt to cover my stomach. I add the tall white socks. Luckily, I wore black pumps with my dress today. I walk out and all three of them whistle. I take a tray off the bar and go wait on my friends.

"Another pitcher, boys?" I ask.

I'm even expertly holding the empty tray on one hand above my head.

They grin at my outfit.

"You should work here part-time. We'd get free beer," Moose tells me.

"I gotta get this on camera," Nick says. "Say, sexy."

They send the picture to Phillip. I'm sure he'll get a kick out of it. And my new career path.

Was I supposed to be texting him back about something?

Shoot, I forget. Oh, well.

I take their empty pitchers and put them on top of my tray, lift it above my head on one hand, and saunter back over to the bar. I refill the pitchers from the tap and put them back on the tray.

I'm a little shocked that I've had a few shots and am still functioning at peak performance levels.

I did have a big lunch though and fried rice must really be good at soaking up alcohol.

As I walk by Cutie One, heading over to deliver the beer, he decides it would be fun to smack my ass.

Which well, I may not have been prepared for because it causes me to become slightly unbalanced, and I'm afraid the full pitchers become slightly unbalanced too. And said pitchers may currently be crashing down, cascading beer on two cuties, who probably don't deserve it, but who are being soaked in beer as we speak.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," I tell the drenched cuties as the tray falls out of my hand and clatters to the floor.

Bradley rushes around with towels and tries to dry off the cuties. He snarls at me about my lack of coordination.

"He slapped my ass!" I say, defending myself.

Bradley gets his serious half bouncer-half bartender look. "That true?"

"Uh," the boy says sheepishly.

"You deserved it then," he says as he throws the towels at them. He fills up a couple new pitchers and carries them over to my friends.

As he walks past me, he goes, "I can't blame the boy for smacking your ass. You look extremely hot." He stares into my eyes for a beat. "Tell you what, you take the orders, I'll carry the drinks."

"I like working here," I tell him when he's back behind the bar.

Whew. I'm starting to feel a little spi

Bradley hands me a tall drink over ice. "What's this?"

"Vodka and water."

I taste it. "It tastes like straight water."

"That's because it's made in Iceland. Very high quality. Very expensive, top shelf stuff."

"Oh." I take another drink. "It's good."

A group comes in and sits at the bar tops in front of the pool tables. They're already racking up a couple games when I go take their order. But by the time I get back to the bar, I can't remember it, so I say, "Two pitchers."

Bradley takes them over.

He comes back and says, "They didn't want pitchers."

"Just tell them it's happy hour, they're cheap, and I was ordering in their best interests. I want more Chinese. Bradley, do you want some?"

Cutie One says, "I want some."

"Dude," the other one says, "I want some from you too."