We've been invited, the staff at the restaurant, to come on down to our favorite local and celebrate the bartenders birthday.
Now G, he's had a thing for this bartender for a while, she's a thirty-something cute blonde, he's been pursuing her and I have an plan to throw a slight wrench in his plans....
The night at work is long, the two new older waiters we've hired - one a reformed alcoholic, the other a Muslim, are fighting, we have to separate them and keep them on different sides of the restaurant. The owner's in a foul mood, and the restaurant has finally had news of the talking waiter, he had to flee to Tunisia "for his daughter" (but he told me his daughter's in France?), excuses, the owner wasn't in the mood and told him to fuck off.
The nephew's convinced that the owner will hire them back, true, he wasn't a great waiter and he was completely full of shit, but the nephew derived great enjoyment from watching his antics, G knows nothing of it, but this situation with the feuding dwarfs, it should end as well, and I'm not sure the nephew's not right.
A long night when finally we get to the bar, the party's well underway, the bartender has already had a few too many, G, with typical Italian class and style, orders her a couple of shots. This is his birthday gift to his love interest.
And when she comes over, hammered, to sit with him and say thanks, I give her my gift.
A nicely wrapped box, pink tissue paper, a sheer black baby doll with matching transparent thong.
She's thrilled, G's embarrassed, and despite knowing that it was I who got her the gift (G apologizing "I didn't know he got you lingerie...") she's showering him with kisses. Then she announces that her fiance will be thrilled, the big black guy sitting over there, from Chicago, they're going to have a hot night - and G and I are both surprised, this is the first I've heard of her boyfriend - not that I've ever spoken to her other than to apologize for drunken coworkers and order drinks, but I would have expected G to mention it...
G looks equally surprised.
The bartender, she's wasted, leaves us after a few minutes to go socialize with the other patrons, G leans over to me "You're such a cock-blocker" he says.
The bar, it's full, the regulars we all know, others celebrating their early Christmas party, the hundreds there to buy the bartender her birthday drinks, me and G sitting quiet on the bench. It was a long night.
The bartender's sister comes over, as well completely drunk, she sits beside me, a tall, slender, angular redhead. And now she starts..."So you told ... that I was a slut..." She slurs it in the friendliest way, I'm quick to refute it:
"No, no, I merely asked if that drink you always buy us..."the redheaded slut"...was named after you...." It was an innocent question, I was curious.
- "You thought I was a slut...."
"No, I was asking, curious, it wasn't an accusation....we have things at our restaurant named after staff and customers...."
I'm not winning here, still, she's not holding a grudge, sits close beside me for a couple of minutes, then goes to find her sister, a second later there's a fight, they're pulling each others hair, slapping, being pulled apart by patrons of the bar.....
The nephew shows up, I'm done, 2 drinks, we split the bill as always 3 ways, $40.00 is my share, 4 more weeks until Christmas.