“What the fuck?” I yelled as my teammates flocked to him. It only took a few minutes for the paramedics to get Hendricks on a stretcher and take him off to get an x-raydone.
Hayes skated behind my net. “It doesn’tlookgood.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Igrowled.
It was terrible to watch one of your teammates be taken out of the game like that, but Jesse was young and resilient.Here’s hoping,anyway.
Once we were up three to nothing, Coach decided to give me a break. Yeah, I was tired as fuck, but I hated when the second-string guy went into my net. It was mine, my responsibility, and I was forced to watch from the bench as Dereck Nilsson fucked up my shutout. I threw my gloves into the floor right before Coach Hayes snarledatme.
“Crosby, get your ass back inthere.”
I hastily put my gloves back on and leapt out of the door. Nilsson skated past me with his head down and his tail between his legs. I wanted to curse him out, tell him how big of a fuckup he was, but he was going to beat himself up for the goal more than any of us could. All in all, I was proud to be on a team with him, but I hated knowing that eventually he was going to replace me. My expiration date was nearing faster and faster, and my aching joints reminded me of that everydamnday.
Jordan
“Yes!That’s what I am talking about! Way to keep your glove up!” I yelled, jumping up and down behind the bar as my guests and coworkers cheered alongside me. One of the best parts of working at a bar – the game wasalwaysone.
“Hockey fan, I gather,” Billy remarked. He was my favorite of the bartenders I was training—fast, skilled, and ravenous to learn new techniques and recipes. He was young and hungry to be the best of the best. The only problem was that he wasn’t fast enough and remembering drink recipes was not hisforte.
“Fan is definitely not the word. When your best friend growing up is Gavin Hayes, hockey is a way of life.” I was totally name-dropping and loved the shit outofit.
Billy was catchingflies.
“Might want to go greet the new guests that just sat down at the end of the bar.” I motioned to the newcomers then watched as he picked his jaw up off the floor and did as he was told like a good littlesoldier.
“Oh! Em! Geeeeezzzeeeee! Yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck.” I spun on my heels to see Bridget’s look of disgust as she pulled a dirty bar rag out from behind the sink. She was shaking it around, freaking out like a squeamish biology student ondissectionday.
“Gnashnab,” I muttered under my breath as I let my eyes roll to the back of my head while being super proud of my word-of-the-day skills. “It’s just an old towel.” I tried to incorporate as much lightheartedness into my tone as possible while taking the vile thing from heroutstretchedhand.
“Gross.” Her nose was as high in the air as itcouldbe.
“I have definitely seen worse.” I threw the rag into the bin with the rest that were going to be sent out to be laundered in the morning—simple as that, and certainly nothing to get your panties in abunchover.
“I don’t even want to know.” Bridget hurriedly scrubbed her hands before ringing some of her customers’ drink orders into the computer. It wasn’t that she wasn’t a good employee, but I was getting really tired of her bitching about something or other every two seconds. If it wasn’t about a repulsive, dirty something, it was about bad tips or the bar being slow or too busy—there was just nopleasingher.
Anothernight.
Anotherbar.
I was guest bartending once again for an up-and-coming hotspot in Manhattan. The new owners had just finished renovations and hired me to come in and revamp their bartending staff. It was fun. I loved my job—and the money wasn’t half bad either—but work was all I did. Yeah, I had a great group of friends, but they we were all growing up, moving on, getting married, having kids, and I was sick of being the perpetual single friend. I was one of the best, most sought-after training bartenders in the entire country, but that was all I had to show for my life—amazing drink-slinging skills and award-winning flare moves. Was it reallyenough?
After a very busy dinner shift, I wiped off the bar top and collected the tip left for me by my last patrons. The night was slowing down and it was getting time for me to get the heck out ofDodge.
“Hey Vince?” I called into the back hallway. “Closingtime!”
The short, graying bar owner waddled out of his office with an unlit cigar clenched between his teeth. “Jordan, it has been a lifesaver havingyouhere.”
He patted me on the shoulder as he walked by to round up the rest of his staff in the dining room. “Great work tonight everyone. I am extremely impressed by how much all of your hard work this past week has paid off.” He turned to me. “And we owe a great deal of this to the incredible JordanBates.”
They all clapped and I wanted to hide under the bar. “Aw, shucks.” My face was hot as I fidgeted with the towel in my hands. “You guys have been putting in all of the work. Teamwork makes the dream work, and all of you have proven thattenfold.”
I was terrible at being praised; compliments embarrassed me to no end. Working in restaurants, especially behind the bar, was a team effort, plain andsimple.
After making sure the tips for the night were divvied out and everything was cleaned, restocked, and put away, I ventured out onto the energetic city street. The humid night air draped me as I pulled out my phone to textGavin.
Me: Way to crush it inChicago!
It only took a few minutes for him torespond.